


save us

by enter_srodulv



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Breaking Up & Making Up, Implied/Referenced Sex, Lovers to Exes to Lovers, M/M, Makeup, Post-Break Up, Post-Canon, of Season 3, pretend the other seasons never happened (but some conflicts stay the same), we pick up a few years after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:01:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25851010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enter_srodulv/pseuds/enter_srodulv
Summary: Lucas and Eliott have been dating for four years. They love each other more than anything, but Lucas can feel Eliott slipping away. He lets his own insecurities get in the way that make him question everything about the Eliott he knows. How long can he hold onto this thread before it breaks? And once it does, how long can they go before reaching for it again?or: a breakup (& makeup) au
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 108
Kudos: 266





	1. romanticizing, dysfunction, and compromising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok it's finally here! if you follow me on tumblr (@luxandobscurus) you know that i've been talking about writing this for a while - i'm a lil nervous about posting a breakup fic but i can't wait to see what you think, please don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts!!! 
> 
> chapter title from 'golf on tv' by lennon stella (the inspo was basically her entire discography tbh)

If fourteen year old Lucas were told he would find the love of his life in just two years time, he simply wouldn’t have believed it. That the boy he would fall head over heels for would change his life forever, and teach him what it really is to love, to _be_ loved. 

Because before he met his first — and last — love, he had a much different idea of what that word really meant. _Love_. 

He thought it was supposed to hurt, at least some of the time, like it’s just the price you pay for a lifetime of happiness with your partner. 

He had known this type of love that made him ache — for his father, whom he loved because of the fond memories he had as a child, but turned sour over time; his father’s love for him expired as it wasn’t being reciprocated. 

For his mother, whom Lucas loved more than anything, but also felt the most pain for — for seeing her at her worst and not knowing how to help or how to love her right when things got bad, how it hurt to think about her when she was away; it hurt to tell her how much he missed her and ask how she was doing. 

For his friends, whom he would do anything for and loved like the brothers he never had — but made him feel angry and isolated at times, like he didn’t exist at all. Especially Yann, whom Lucas was convinced he loved more than just a friend, fell for him when he knew he shouldn’t have. A romantic love that wouldn’t be returned. So it hurt, and it hurt so bad it averted even his platonic love for a while, until he finally came clean about it. 

So Lucas thought love was supposed to hurt — or that to love meant _to_ hurt — for he hadn’t known a kind of love that didn’t. 

And then one day, one specific moment, everything he thought he knew about love was unlearned the instant he caught sight of the new boy at the foyer meeting. 

And over the next year, Eliott would show him a love that never hurt — even when they were on different wavelengths and got the timing wrong at the beginning, because it was just a matter of time before their true selves were laid out for the other to see and accept — and since then all he’s known is an everlasting, healing, comforting kind of love. 

But now, Lucas doesn’t even know where it all went wrong. He’s still madly in love with Eliott, maybe even more so with each passing day. His love is familiar, as steady and constant as the North Star that Eliott points out every night. 

But something doesn’t feel right, like a dull pain has seeped its way into his heart without rhyme or reason. Lucas hopes it’s just his own doing, worrying about something that’s not even there. 

This love is starting to ache, make him numb even. The love he thought never would. 

So, maybe, he was right all along. 

* * *

**_as winter turns to spring_**

  
  


“Hey, are you on your way?”

Eliott’s words come out quickly from the receiver on his phone, like he’s running up the stairs while talking. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon! I just have to— _fuck_!” 

Lucas laughs at the _thump_ on the other line he assumes is his tall, lanky boyfriend tripping over the top step to their apartment that is slightly higher than the rest and trips over every time.

“Sorry,” Eliott says with a normal pace, keys jingling in the lock in the background. “I have to change really quickly and I’m on my way!” 

“Okay,” Lucas’ cheek presses into the phone to his ear as he grins at Eliott’s mumbles at the sticky lock.

“Tell Daphné and Baz I’m buying them drinks tonight!”

“Then you better hurry before they literally move to Canada,” Lucas teases and Eliott scoffs.

“ _Fine_ ,” Eliott sighs, then makes a noise indicating he finally got the door open. “See you soon!” 

Lucas hangs up after hearing a kiss from the other end; his home screen reads 6:53pm. He stares at his screen for a second — or the picture of him and Eliott sticking their tongues out towards the camera as Eliott hugs him from behind — then pockets his phone.

He savors the slightly chilly air and the golden sunset between the buildings across the street, for the days are getting warmer and longer now as spring is nearly around the corner, before stepping back inside of the quickly crowding restaurant. He meets his friends for Daphné and Basile’s going away party, stopping at the bar to get some glasses of water for the table.

“—But they were!” Arthur exclaims and Lucas only picks up the end of his sentence. 

“Oh, thanks, Lucas,” the blond says when he accepts a glass and takes a sip. 

Arthur changes the subject as he turns back to Basile: “Anyways, it’s going to be weird without you, man. There’s no one else I can talk shit with for so long that I need rehydrating.” 

Lucas doesn’t flinch because they all know Baz and Arthur have a special bond that he doesn’t have with the other two.

Basile gives him a sad smile, then a similar one to Lucas, too. “I’m going to miss you guys so much,” he says right as Yann takes a seat in the booth next to Lucas.

“And Eliott, of course!” he adds, his smile no longer sad, but as wide as his eyes just like the day Lucas introduced them.

Lucas looks down bashfully, corners of his lips turning up. It’s as endearing as it is annoying, sometimes, how much his friend likes his boyfriend.

“He’s coming tonight, right?” Basile looks at Lucas with his signature Bambi eyes whenever Eliott is mentioned.

He nods. “Yeah, of course, Baz, he’s on his way.” 

Lucas takes a sip of his own glass, their phone call replaying in his head. His smile falters; some words are echoed into his half empty drink. 

“You’d think after 4 years together I wouldn’t have to tell him the reservation is at 7 when it’s really at 7:30,” Lucas says lightly, although it pulls at a few strings in his heart.

Yann checks his watch with a furrow of his brows. “Hey, don’t stress, man. If he’s on his way already he’s technically early anyway. And besides, Daphné and the girls are probably still doing their makeup right now.” He looks over at Arthur and Basile for confirmation of his statement, and he’s met with wide eyes and the slightest of nods.

Lucas gives Yann one of those smiles that says more than words, one that Yann gives him in return. The smile that says, _I know you’re worried and you don’t need to be, but it’s okay that you are_. 

Yann’s right. There’s nothing to worry about. What could there possibly be to worry about? Things are going well, really well. 

Right?

But... maybe not as great as they have been. Lucas starts to reflect on their relationship in years past, and how different he feels about it and in it now. 

Meeting Eliott and dating him in high school was like a whirlwind that flipped his whole world upside down. It was fun and scary and exciting; Eliott was with him through every first Lucas experienced. It felt like a romance straight out of a film, something he thought only existed on screen, or in his dreams, or in one of his parallel universes.

And now it’s like the storm has passed and the dust has settled. They’ve gotten comfortable with each other — which is great, of course, he loves finding a feeling of comfort and home in Eliott. It’s just that they almost feel a little _too_ comfortable now, like they don’t need each other as much — or maybe want each other as much — since they already know they have it. Now they are living two separate lives instead of sharing their lives with one another; their relationship resembles ships passing in the night, on opposing courses rather than parallel ones.

Come to think of it, Lucas doesn’t even know where Eliott was on his way from before stopping at home to change. Not that he needs to know the coordinates of his boyfriend’s precise location at all times, but he can’t recall the last detail like that Eliott shared with him. And Lucas never had a second thought to ask, he just expected to see him at home at the end of the day, or at the restaurant tonight. Not that he hasn’t driven himself absolutely crazy thinking about the possibilities.

He shakes the thought out of his head before it spirals into yet another insecurity crisis that he can never find a way out of. Instead, he drinks more of his ice water — needing something much stronger — and tries to focus on one of the last conversations with his friends before Basile moves away.

“What do you mean? Rachel was totally allowed to feel like that, right?” Basile argues, picking up whatever debate they were having before Lucas came back inside. 

“I mean, sure, but Ross does have a point,” Arthur counters. “As dumb and overplayed that whole thing is, they really _were_ on a break.”

“Oh, come on. It was barely a break and everyone knows it!”

Lucas hasn’t seen an episode of _Friends_ so he has no idea what they’re talking about, as per usual. Actually, he’s seen an episode or two but was turned off by the applause tracks every few minutes that made him feel like he missed the punchline. That’s something at least he and Eliott can agree on.

But he indulges in the slightly heated discussion as Yann just laughs at the ridiculousness of the two.

“Well, on a break or not, it was fucking weird. And with the girl from Kinkos!”

They just agree to disagree after ten more minutes of this as more people start arriving — including Eliott, who is dressed in that goddamn turtleneck that makes Lucas’ mouth go dry.

Lucas spots the familiar head of hair from their seat at the back of the dining room, and the second their eyes meet Eliott’s face splits in two with that sunshine smile of his. Then he’s bounding over to their table and attacking Lucas with kisses like they have been apart way too long. It’s only been a few hours, but still; his heart always manages to do somersaults whenever he sees Eliott.

Yann pulls up a chair so that Eliott can take his place next to Lucas and they all greet him. Eliott’s hand finds home on the denim of Lucas’ thigh and rubs it back in forth gently, almost absent-mindedly. Like Eliott can’t stand the thought of not having Lucas around and it’s just his way of expressing it. It’s a comfort Lucas didn’t know how much he needed, especially with the nature of his thoughts just minutes ago.

Arthur claps his friend on the shoulder and nods towards Eliott, “Baz was so scared you weren’t going to show and he would have to postpone the move altogether.” 

Something inside Lucas stings at the words, hitting a little too close to home. The strings attached to his heart connecting it to Eliott’s give another tug.

Lucas wasn’t actually scared he wouldn’t show; he knows that Eliott wouldn’t do that to him. Or — to Basile and Daphné. _Right_. 

But still it makes him shift in the booth next to Eliott, who just laughs and keeps up the soothing touches on his leg. But now the skin burns from it, and Lucas struggles to find that comfort again.

It’s another small piece he feels chipping away at what they built together all these years. Eliott’s love language has always been touch, and Lucas loves it, of course. Loves feeling wanted and cherished by the man he loves with his entire being. 

But deep down, Lucas knows that it isn’t his language of receiving love; he much preferred words and actions — and in that moment he realizes he hasn’t experienced much of either from Eliott lately.

And maybe it’s all bullshit — love languages and compatibility and the other relationship advice he takes too seriously from Manon and Emma that they get from fashion magazines.

But, then again, maybe it isn’t.

Eliott leans forward to give the brunet across from him a teasing shove. “Sorry, I just had a thing. You know I wouldn’t do that, Baz!”

 _A thing._

It’s not like Eliott has to tell him everything about his whereabouts, but the vague excuses are leaving Lucas with nothing to ease his already worrying mind. 

It’s not lost on him that Eliott is a great guy, and clearly very attractive, and such a kind and lovely person; he’s easily the best person Lucas has ever known. So every time his answers are curt and nonchalant it only makes Lucas second guess everything. 

_Who is he with? Where could he be that he wouldn’t want me to know? Why can’t he just tell me? What’s wrong with me that makes him think he can’t?_

And above all: _Why does it hurt this much?_

Lucas feels another chip at the foundation they stand on, and the hand giving his knee a reassuring squeeze is anything but.

It’s getting harder to breathe with all the contact, the close proximity of everything Eliott. Because the physical touch reminds him just how far away he feels, even when he’s right next to him. 

The touch, and therefore the love Eliott is giving him, is now suffocating. Hurting. 

Like it’s not supposed to. 

*

A few hours and a few drinks later, Lucas’ mind is otherwise occupied when Daphné pulls him out to the dancefloor, the cheesy dance music drumming in his ears. He tries his best to live in the moment and make the most of their night before sending his friends off across the Atlantic.

He’d like to say he’s successful in keeping his thoughts at bay, but it’s distracting to see Eliott looking the way he does, like an off-duty runway model who decided to grace this restaurant with his presence. It ignites a sense of pride inside Lucas, that by some grace of a god or the universe, he was deemed lucky enough to love him — and what’s more, be loved by him in return.

The doubt and insecurity he was riddled with earlier in the night was just that, right? Just Lucas being the Lucas he is and always was, always will be: a worrier. It must be all in his head, because looking at Eliott now, and a moment later when the other meets his adoring gaze, it seems impossible that any of it would have any merit. 

Those strings keeping their hearts attached keep tangling and knotting together, lost in a mess of lines that seem to have no beginning or end — much like the vicious cycle he seems to find himself in a lot lately. 

Lucas tries to find the catalyst for these bouts of insecurity in his relationship. Was there one specific moment he felt the world shift beneath them, that started the drift between them? A moment like the one he knew he fell in love, a moment like the one he knew his life would never be the same — like the one he met Eliott’s eyes in that foyer meeting all those years ago?

Sometimes he feels like there’s no ground to stand on at all, just hanging on by the thread that connects them and nothing else.

But there’s something about the way the lights and shadows play off of Eliott’s cheekbones from across the room, where he’s sipping a virgin cocktail and laughing with Idriss, or perhaps it’s the alcohol swimming in his brain and suddenly he can’t stand the distance anymore, that makes him cross the room determined to silence the voices in his head saying anything could be wrong. 

*

“Here, let me help,” Eliott offers in that soft, sweet voice of his. Lucas feels a kiss being pressed to his forehead.

He’s having trouble with the key in the lock to their apartment; his movements are a little slow and unfocused with the remnants of alcohol in his system.

“I got it,” Lucas insists. 

He finally unclicks the lock and opens the door with a celebratory _a-ha!_ and grabs Eliott by the wrist to bring him inside.

Lucas is being very affectionate and can’t seem to keep his hands off of him, and if it’s because he hates the physical and metaphorical distance between them or the thought of not having him within an arm’s reach, he doesn’t blame it on that. It’s just the vodka left in his veins, although he ate and drank enough water for the effect to wear off by now.

Eliott notices — the affection, that is, not the overcompensation for the distance Lucas feels between them lately — and asks: “You maybe had a little too much to drink at the party, don’t you think?”

Lucas scoffs, with an eye roll that can only be described as dramatic. “Noooo. I think I’ve been doing too much thinking,” he laughs at the use of the same word twice, “and not enough _feeling_.” He snakes his arms around Eliott’s waist, moving closer and tipping his head back to look up at him.

Eliott gives him a look, accompanied with raised brows. Lucas puts his best puppy eyes to use in a silent plea for something he’s not even sure what. For reassurance, for an honest conversation, for a kiss, for his love that doesn’t make him hurt like he does right now.

He gets two of those things — well, almost two — in the end. Eliott takes his face in between his hands and kisses him softly, then more heated. He also gives Lucas his love, of course, his love communicated with tender kisses and gentle caresses, his touch lighting Lucas’ skin and body on fire, a warm glow from the inside out making home under the tangled strings of his heart.

Eliott fucks him on the kitchen table before they can get to the bedroom, for the first time in a week or two, Lucas can’t remember.

They take turns taking a shower and fall into bed. 

“Goodnight, my love,” he hears Eliott whisper through the quiet room, but the words aren’t as healing as he hoped they would be. Lucas can’t stand the silence, _his_ silence, but how can he tell Eliott he feels him slipping away?

It’s like the words are ingrained into the sheets between them: objects or boyfriends are closer than they appear. 

But, he supposes, goodnight is better than goodbye.

Lucas lies awake, deciding that he only got one of those things after all.

*

He doesn’t know how long he’s been awake, but enough time has passed that the sliver of moonlight has moved across the room on the floor, indicating she has set.

And Lucas can’t lay still any longer, so he gets up and makes his way to the kitchen for a glass of water.

He feels a breeze from the open window of the living room, then finds one of Eliott’s hoodies resting on the back of a chair and throws it on. The fabric is soft and warm, and the longer he wears it the more warmth is trapped inside. He thinks of the way the same fabric clings to the body of the one he loves, and provides him with the same warmth he’s feeling now. He thinks of how he feels more at home in Eliott’s clothes than his own, because it’s something they share together — a home and a love, they share — all wrapped up in the black cotton.

But he can’t help but feel more at home in the sleeves of this hoodie than the arms of their owner, aching and longing for the comfort and warmth they used to bring, before the unspoken thing between them formed, and the thought breaks something inside of Lucas.

Suddenly it’s too hot, too constricting, too alien inside the hoodie so he takes it off and returns it to the chair he found it on.

Lucas goes out to their balcony, watching the city he grew up in twinkle below. It’s too cold without the hoodie now, the last cold breeze of the season flowing through the apartment. 

He finds Eliott’s cigarettes on the table and takes one and lights it between his lips. Lucas looks up at the indigo sky, perhaps for answers or for comfort, but looks back down at his cold feet against the railing and the ash falling from the cigarette.

On his last drag of the cigarette he looks back up, searching for the North Star again, but the deep midnight blue is scattered with thick, dark clouds.

*

Lucas opens his eyes to see Eliott watching him, and for a second he wonders for how long. His lips turn up into a soft smile on their own and he’s met with the same one from Eliott. 

He completely forgets what was worrying him last night when he wakes, like the sleep washed every worry away and left him anew. It’s sobering — to wake up next to that face, that small sleepy smile that still makes Eliott’s eyes turn to crescent moons, cheeks rosy from sleep and the glimpse of morning sun as it settles onto their skin and into their bed — so much so that it’s like he can see their whole lives flashing by in the slits Eliott’s eyes make, reminding him exactly why he fell in love with this person who he can’t believe feels miles away even though he’s right where he’s always been: at arm’s length.

 _Good morning_ is mumbled into the sheets, and Lucas greets him with a _morning_ of his own, along with a groan as he stretches from his restless sleep.

“Did you have any dreams?” Eliott asks with too much energy this early, and in a way that he’s asking because he wants to know, but more so because he wants to answer his own question.

Lucas’ smile falters at this as he shakes his head. He can’t look at Eliott now, his mind playing tricks on him again. He’s reminded of how torn up he was last night, how he couldn’t sleep because all he could think about was what his boyfriend could possibly be hiding from him, and how much he wants to ask but doesn’t want to know. How— 

“I had a dream about you,” Eliott says with that soft tone he has in the mornings. He rubs his nose adorably into the pillow and inches closer.

Lucas tries not to think about the way he reacts to that, how he moves further away. After all, it’s easier with that space between them now. Maybe because he’s afraid that if Eliott gets too close he’ll finally notice what’s been weighing on him; the mask he wears is too thin to cover what’s lurking beneath at the new distance. 

Or maybe because everything's uglier up close, which is why he keeps everything as far away as possible. If it’s at a safe distance then he can separate himself from anything threatening to cave in. But Eliott has always been the exception, is the only exception. He’s never let anyone in like he has Eliott, which makes this so much harder. 

“Oh yeah?” Lucas swallows, shifts a bit closer but still keeps enough distance to look at Eliott as he talks. “A dream about me?”

“Well,” Eliott snakes a hand around his waist. “You... us,” he adds, as if they’re the same thing. 

Eliott looks back at him now, and it feels like he’s searching for something, but before he can find it, he looks back down at his pillow as if the dream is there. 

“We were married and lived on a farm and had kids and chickens and rabbits and everything.” His eyes flick back up to meet Lucas’, and he can feel those strings shifting again.

Eliott laughs lightly, and it should make Lucas laugh too, like it always does. “I can’t remember the rest, but it was nice. We were so happy. Just—” he lets out a long breath. “A normal, simple life, you know?”

He knows — he used to have dreams like that before he even met Eliott, how happy he could be in those dreams, in those figments of his imagination. Then it would break his heart when he woke up to find himself in the stark contrast of his reality compared to the freedom and happiness in his dreams.

That familiar feeling is back, but it hurts in a new way. It hurts because he has one of those dreams right in front of him — one of those dreams he thought would never come true. It hurts because Eliott’s dream seems so far away in the juxtaposition of their relationship now. It hurts because in those dreams is the only place they will be that happy.

Lucas can’t let Eliott see what he must look like as he thinks this, and at the same time, he can’t stand the thought of not even having the dream in front of him, so he surrenders. He pulls Eliott in, too close for his comfort, but as a reminder that Eliott is real, that he’s right here, that he’s not going anywhere (if he can help it).

He pulls Eliott in — the very real yet so dreamlike, Eliott — for a breathless kiss. All Lucas wants to do is give him anything he can, and in a language he knows and enjoys. He runs his hands all over the skin he knows better than his own, kisses the lips that know his more than anything else. He thinks that if he stops he’ll just fall apart, _they’ll_ fall apart.

Right when Lucas starts to forget, reality starts to set in. A phone rings in the hallway, from one of their pants pockets on the floor.

Eliott gives him one last kiss and goes to answer it, leaving Lucas in the mess of his thoughts again without the physical reminder of him.

A few minutes later — he thinks, but isn’t sure — Eliott comes back into the room and gets dressed like he’s going out for the day.

It’s Sunday, a day they usually try to keep open because their class schedules don’t leave much time to see each other this semester. 

“Where are you going?” Lucas has to ask, and it sounds as needy as he wishes it didn’t. 

His boyfriend looks around the room for something but his eyes eventually land on Lucas. “I’m meeting some friends that might be able to work on my film for next year,” he says with his head tilted as he looks at him.

Lucas just stares back, and then Eliott is cupping his face for a kiss on his lips then his forehead. “Didn’t I tell you?”

“...No,” Lucas says quietly a few seconds later, that dream feeling further and further away.

Eliott goes into the bathroom and comes back out not having heard him.

“I’m gonna go,” he tells him, and then: “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Lucas replies. Is love supposed to make you feel like a stranger?

He falls back on the mattress and sleeps an hour more. Later, he wakes to the sound of rain and notices two things: Eliott’s sweatshirt isn’t on the chair, and there’s only one string left between their hearts.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they got a big storm comin 🥺  
> thank you for reading! any and all comments and feedback are always welcome and appreciated :)
> 
> i'll try my best to update asap so we can get to the good stuff before too long!! until then feel free to yell at me on tumblr [@luxandobscurus](https://luxandobscurus.tumblr.com/) hehe


	2. we can handle the heat of a flame / but there is only ever so much light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are here w the Angst,, thank u for waiting - i hope this 10k chapter is worth the wait. ah this was the most difficult thing i've ever had to write and i even wrote a few different versions of this chapter but i'm going w this one, i really hope u enjoy 🥺 
> 
> (beware of tears and bleeding cuticles)
> 
> chapter title from ‘like we used to’ by kevin garrett - i highly recommend u listen!!

**_as spring turns to summer_**

  
  
  


Lucas can’t sleep. 

It’s been weeks since their hearts have narrowed down to a singular thread keeping them together, weeks since all Lucas can think about is all the evidence he’s gathered somehow confirming his doubts - all without as much as mentioning any of it to Eliott. 

He just feels so lonely in love; hanging on by this one thread that only gets pulled taut with the relentless grip he has on it.

He’s always had trouble getting to and staying asleep, but it’s gotten worse ever since his relationship with Eliott feels like it’s on the way out; it’s gotten worse without the comfort of laying in his arms, and to top it all off, with final exams right around the corner.

Lucas stays up studying before his mind begins to drift, thinking and overthinking about asking Eliott a million different things. Questions like, _don’t you feel it - that something isn’t right, that we don’t work like we used to? Don’t you feel it fading?_

And then he thinks about what isn’t right, why they aren’t working, and how it’s fading. He blames it on Eliott’s lack of communication or his own insecurities; it spirals into reasons that don’t even make sense, or reasons that aren’t reasons at all. Lucas dreams up worst case scenarios with his boyfriend sleeping peacefully right beside him none the wiser.

It’s gotten to the point where he’s not sure how much longer he can hold back before he explodes, like his heart is pumping kerosene for blood and just one spark will set it off.

So perhaps it’s best he distances himself from Eliott momentarily. To not ask the questions he’s dying to ask, to bite his tongue no matter how much it hurts.

That’s why, on Sunday - their Sunday - when Eliott wants him to pose for some photos with his new film camera, Lucas tries to get out of it, using the bags and dark circles under his eyes as an excuse. 

( _Eliott, I can’t go out looking like this, much less have it captured on film forever_ , he whined.)

Eliott scoffs at that, running a hand through Lucas’ already unruly hair, turning into that intense yet playful romantic he is sometimes. 

“You’re beautiful, dark circles and all.” 

He kisses him hard, and it’s enough to leave Lucas absolutely breathless, enough to lean into his touch and surrender once again. Enough to give some slack to the string between them because of how close they feel in that moment. 

When he pulls back, Eliott runs his thumb under said dark circles, with a touch as delicate as ever. “Please?” 

So, Lucas finds himself being pulled by the hand following Eliott to God knows where, because he’s weak when he feels close to him again. He would do just about anything if it meant keeping Eliott smiling and laughing like this - anything to release tension from that thread. 

His heart flutters in his chest, a feeling like the one he had when he wasn’t sure how he felt about Eliott, before he let himself love him - like something was holding him back, and that something was just himself. 

“Are you sure it’s the best weather for this?” Lucas asks, looking up to the afternoon sky, a mix of blues and greys that make him think about how much it reflects the color of Eliott’s eyes.

Eliott stops and turns around for a second, then walks backwards while bringing the camera up to his eye. 

“Yeah, it’s better than direct sunlight, you’ll see,” his boyfriend answers behind the lens, left eye squinted as he clicks the shutter and flicks the lever that moves the film inside.

“Are you coming?” Eliott teases when Lucas is lost in his thoughts again, mind as clouded as the sky above them. 

It’s getting warmer now and the days are getting longer - there’s not as many layers or shadows to hide behind. It’s cloudy but there’s not a raindrop in sight - the air is stuck in a state of in between, hanging heavy over his head, seconds from falling on his shoulders.

Lucas catches up as Eliott beckons him to what looks like an old warehouse. There’s concrete walls covered in graffiti and vines all over. The contrast between the two is actually quite beautiful; he can see why Eliott would want to take photos here.

He steps closer to a foggy window with a particularly alluring drawing next to it, the faint light from the window making lines on the cracked concrete under his feet.

“How did you find this place?” 

It’s out of the way from where they normally go, and it’s not that close to their apartment or their schools.

Something about this location reminds him of the place Eliott took him for their first kiss; he wonders if this is a kind of refuge for him, like that tunnel. He quickly thinks about how Eliott found that place, too, but doesn’t ask.

Instead of an answer Lucas hears the shutter again, and the flick of the film inside. And then the same thing one more time.

“Wait,” Eliott adjusts Lucas' shoulders where he stands in front of him. “Okay, that’s perfect.”

Lucas is afraid of Eliott taking his picture now - when he’s in that vicious cycle of his thoughts again. Scared that his face will give him away, that he will be captured in all of his doubt and insecurity all laid out as evidence that he’s been doing some hiding from the one he feels hidden from. 

But he’s a little glad that the camera is between them and it’s the shutter doing the capturing, rather than Eliott, behind the lens and mirror that does the reflecting in his hands.

Every click of the shutter reels his heart in an inch more, treading that line so carefully between them - of looking like everything is fine but still keeping Eliott at a distance so that he can’t see the cracks in the facade he’s tired of keeping up. 

Lucas’ heart constricts with every lingering gaze behind Eliott’s eyes - those eyes, so grey and stormy they rival the clouds. The vines covering the walls have crept their way into his chest and have his heart in a stranglehold, threatening to burst with every breath he holds under Eliott’s watch.

Not knowing what to do under all of the attention - that attention Lucas thought he wanted - he reaches for the camera in Eliott’s hands to switch their roles.

“Hey!” Eliott doesn’t let him take it. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, in that playful and light voice of his.

“You’re too pretty to be behind the camera,” Lucas teases, corner of his lips turning up in a smirk.

Eliott’s cheeks blush a pretty pink, and he smiles, though he’s reluctant.

“May I?” Lucas puts his hands on top of Eliott’s, clutching the camera.

They stare at each other, Eliott still guarding the camera from Lucas’ reach. Lucas looks at him, head tilted, like he’s just waiting for him to crumble under the eyes he knows will make Eliott give in.

Eliott rolls his eyes, albeit fondly, pushing the camera into his hands but not letting go.

“Fine, but we don’t want a repeat of last time.”

Lucas takes the camera into his hands, and it’s heavier than he remembers. He looks down at the device as Eliott carefully places the strap connecting it around his neck. His hands rest on top of Lucas’ shoulders, which make him look back up.

“Okay?” Eliott chuckles, but looks stern and serious. Lucas tries not to laugh, it’s so endearing when Eliott tries to be a hardass with him.

Lucas rolls his eyes. “It was _one_ time, I didn’t know!” 

“I know, baby. It’s okay,” Eliott brings his hands up from Lucas’ shoulders to the sides of his neck, leaning into a smiley kiss.

“Just don’t touch anything other than this button,” he points to the shutter. “Got it?”

“I know how to use a camera, Eliott,” Lucas deadpans.

“Yeah... _now_ ,” Eliott teases before leaving Lucas behind the lens and the mirror to let it - Lucas - do the reflecting, away from himself this time.

  
  


*

  
  


It’s Thursday afternoon, and Lucas just got home from his excruciating day of lectures and labs. He brought some Chinese takeout for dinner in case Eliott had plans like he seems to have a lot of these days, with final exams and project deadlines coming up.

He curses the lock not opening for him with his handful of food, carrying the paper bag in his arms. The door opens from the inside, and Lucas is so startled he nearly drops his dinner.

“Hey,” Eliott greets with a sweet smile, standing behind the open door.

“Hey,” Lucas breathes, but he isn’t as relieved as he thought he’d be to see him. 

The evening sun paints lines on the floor, stretching across the room and making dust sparkle in the air.

Lucas walks over to the kitchen and sets down the bag of food; he’s starting to take out its contents when Eliott comes up behind him and circles his arms around his waist and kisses his shoulder.

He shrugs away the attention on instinct, not expecting Eliott’s lips on his neck, shying away from them before he has a mind to stop it.

This makes Eliott step back, leaving some space between them but the air is still suffocating nonetheless. His hands stay on Lucas’ hips and squeeze lightly in a silent question for him to turn around.

Lucas does, avoiding Eliott’s eyes he knows are careful and watching, trying to school whatever expression is on his face. Lucas doesn’t even know what he’s feeling, much less be able to explain it and his reaction.

When he doesn’t look up, Eliott tucks a piece of hair behind Lucas’ ear. “Hey, are you okay?”

He’s forced to look up now, and Lucas keeps his eyes moving so he doesn’t hold Eliott’s gaze too long. 

The sun from the window is fading now, hiding behind the buildings in the distance before it’s gone for the night.

But since he can’t run he may as well try to hide, like the sun.

“Yeah,” he kisses Eliott’s lips. “Just tired. Had a long day.” 

It’s not what Eliott wants to hear but it does the trick. Lucas is tired of giving these non-answers as much as he’s sure his boyfriend is of hearing them. 

But it is true, at least; he did have a long day, and he is tired. So tired. From class and homework and feeling so lost in his head about everything. 

Lucas sees the opportunity to do the reflecting again, and takes it. 

“How are you?” 

Eliott shrugs, noncommittal. He leans in closer, putting his hands on the counter behind Lucas.

Lucas takes a breath, and it gets caught in his throat, watching how Eliott’s eyes darken for a second. Their hands gripping the marble reminds him of the last time they found themselves in this position, and the thought makes his blood rush south.

He gets so caught up in the sensation he misses Eliott’s answer, and then he’s gone. Eliott turns to the fridge and returns with two beers before Lucas realizes he left.

Lucas tries to shake out of it and moves to the cupboard to get out plates for dinner, setting them on the counter next to the beers.

“Oh, I already ate,” Eliott says as he pops the tops off the bottles.

Lucas sees the take out boxes spread out in front of him and wishes he knew that before buying all of it. He puts one plate back and starts dishing his own.

His stomach is feeling queasy with how awkward he knows he’s acting around Eliott, but he’s so hungry from not eating all day that he forces himself to eat anyway.

Eliott sits with him at the table, sipping his beer and on his phone next to Lucas who eats in silence. 

They do this all the time, just coexist and keep each other company in comfortable silence. But tonight it’s all off, Lucas feels like he’s missed so much in their time apart from just being on campus all day, all week. And seeing Eliott so casual and acting like everything is business as usual makes him feel even worse, like there shouldn’t be this empty feeling inside of him when it’s not in Eliott at all.

The day of their photoshoot plays over and over in Lucas’ mind, suddenly feeling like a ticking time bomb dangerously close to detonating. It’s a race against the clock before he’s found out. Well, at least until Eliott gets the film developed and sees every reservation written on his face.

Just when the silence is getting unbearable, Lucas’ phone rings in his pocket.

Lucas gets up from the table when he answers, lines from the setting sun gone now, leaving an in-between of gold and blue in the pre-evening haze.

“Hello?”

“Lucas! We said 7, right?” 

It’s Yann, and there’s some commotion on the other line like he’s around other people on a busy street.

He frowns, taking the phone away from his ear to check the time. It’s nearly 7:30 now. _We said 7 for what?_

“Shit,” Lucas sighs. “Sorry, I forgot,” he curses when he remembers he told Arthur he would stop by the L’asso meeting tonight.

Lucas realizes he’s been absent mindedly walking around the apartment while he was on the phone and finds himself standing before the mirror in the bathroom. The day he’s had is obvious from his reflection; his hair has flattened and frizzed from running his hands through it in stress, and those dark circles now captured on film make his face look sullen and tired.

He sets his phone down on the counter after putting it on speaker, so that he can wash his face quickly and work on fixing his hair. Lucas pulls off his t-shirt so that his hair doesn’t get messed up in the process of changing, thinking about wearing a button down for tonight.

“Is that Lucas?” he hears in the background from the other line. 

When his face is washed he wets his hands to run them through his unruly hair, and adds some of Eliott’s pomade to help. 

The voice is louder when the phone is passed to Arthur. “Lucas, it hasn’t really started yet and there aren’t that many people here, honestly.”

That takes some weight off of his shoulders, at least. Lucas still tries to get ready as fast as he can so he doesn’t get there too late.

When his hair looks decent, he turns and goes to the closet to look for his denim shirt and black jeans, shedding his sweatpants on the way. He can still hear Arthur on speaker but the words get lost when he is met with a half-naked Eliott in their bedroom. 

Lucas misses whatever else Yann and Arthur say after that, the little brainpower he has left after his lectures is all being used to take in the skin before him, and the fucking smirk Eliott has on his face.

Lucas can already feel his cheeks and chest flushing under the attention, the one layer he has on not leaving much to the imagination.

And the burning feeling he has in his chest and stomach now is one that he welcomes, finally feeling familiar, when Eliott looks at him like that. 

That hasn’t changed, at least. The physical aspect of their relationship is something Lucas never doubted. And this is the first time in a while they have actually looked at each other in this way - seeing, rather than looking - and it’s exhilarating. Even the last time in the kitchen had been in a drunken haze, just looking for quick release. 

Eliott walks his way slowly, the air thick and charged as he takes his eyes down Lucas’ body. Then suddenly they’re closer than they were in the kitchen, bodies pressed together. 

It happens again - when Lucas feels too far from Eliott he panics and overcompensates, bringing him closer than he should. Like the further he gets the closer he needs him all of a sudden. There’s too much slack on that thread, then he pulls it so hard it almost breaks.

They’re orbiting in a figure eight in opposite directions, constantly moving away from each other until they meet in the middle, then go their separate ways, and then the whole thing over and over again.

They’re about to meet in the middle, in the crossing of their paths - when it’s good. And when it’s good, it’s _so_ good, that when they drift again it hurts even more.

Lucas isn’t prepared for that - for their paths crossing only briefly before there’s that distance again - when just before their lips touch, his friend’s voice, still on speaker, cuts through.

“Oh, hey, is Eliott coming? Or are you still stressing about things between you two?”

Fuck.

Lucas is so eager for a kiss he almost doesn’t catch what was said, but when he does it’s too late. Eliott turns away at the last possible second, Lucas’ lips meeting his boyfriend’s jaw before he’s being pushed away.

That moment, that one moment where they finally get close again, is gone before he ever had a chance to savor it. 

He’s stepped on a land mine he buried himself; it was only a matter of time until it all came back to blow up in his face. Lucas knows he needs to tread lightly, for one misstep and everything will explode.

Lucas pulls back, face burning red in something other than desire now.

“Eliott—” he starts, stomach dropping as he takes a step forward but halts once he finally sees those eyes.

Lucas doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to explain. All he knows is that this is the farthest he’s ever felt from Eliott, and it's all his fault. 

It’s Eliott’s turn to avoid eye contact, but all Lucas wants is for Eliott to look at him. To look into his eyes and let him plead for forgiveness, for anything other than the silence.

“So, were you going to tell me what’s going on?” Eliott asks in a tone Lucas isn’t used to hearing.

Fuck, he knew this would happen. There’s a calm in each storm, and that’s what the moment feels like; it feels like there’s an iceberg in the distance they’re bound to hit and it just keeps getting closer and closer.

So Lucas is really only presented with two options: to lie - or rather, keep the truth hidden with more vague non-answers, but what’s the difference anymore? - or to come clean about everything. 

And, because he’s a coward, he chooses the former.

There’s more chatter on the other line from the bathroom, and Lucas turns on his heel to reach for his phone and hang up. 

When he looks up Eliott is standing in the doorway behind him, fully dressed. They meet eyes in the mirror; Lucas feels so exposed, and not just from his lack of clothing. Eliott tears his gaze away when his own phone buzzes in his pocket and Lucas does all he can to not just punch the reflection before him.

Not knowing what to do with his hands other than breaking the mirror with them, he turns on the faucet and rinses them with the ice cold water.

His nails are bitten from stress and nerves like always but it’s then that he sees his cuticles on his right thumb, thin skin tearing from his nail bed just begging to be ripped away.

Lucas finds his black jeans and slips them on then rummages through the closet for his shirt, not looking at Eliott as he lies.

“It’s nothing, really. Don’t listen to them.” He chances a glance back at Eliott. “Just that I’m stressed about exams and everything, and that I feel like I don't get to see you as much anymore, that’s all.” Lucas winces at how unconvincing he is, even to himself.

He finally finds the shirt he’s looking for and fastens all the buttons, facing Eliott again with a new armor he didn’t have a minute ago. 

“So…” Lucas makes a desperate attempt to change the subject, “Do you wanna come?” 

Eliott sighs. “I think I’m going to meet some friends actually,” he says as he looks down at his phone.

Lucas huffs, trying to lighten the air around them. “They are your friends,” he chides, hoping that is enough to make Eliott join him, or to at least not make him feel so far away.

Eliott looks up, unimpressed. “You know I have other friends, too, right?” 

Lucas just stands there, stunned, not knowing if he’s joking or not. Then Eliott is kissing his forehead and walking out, and Lucas is in a mess of his thoughts again, all alone in their room. 

He hates it - hates feeling like something has changed, something has shifted like they’re just waiting for the fallout. And all because he opened his stupid mouth to his stupid friends who had a chance to bring up his worries before Lucas even could. 

So he stands there, alone, watching Eliott leave once again. And a small part of him can’t help but feel like he won’t come back. 

When Lucas steps into the living room he’s met with darkness. It hasn’t been long since he left it but in his absence the sun has made its departure, the world swallowed up in blues and indigos. 

It’s funny, he thinks, how fast things change when you’re not looking, how light fades in more ways than one.

Lucas puts on his shoes and grabs his keys and wallet and is almost out the door when he feels his heart sinking. He can’t just leave like this; he can’t leave how things just were between them.

He strides across the living room back to where Eliott is perched against the windowsill with a cigarette.

When Lucas sees him put it out in the ashtray he comes over and kisses him, lips warm from the cigarette but not the usual warmth he finds in them. The kiss is nothing more than a pressing of lips, so many words trapped behind them he doesn’t say.

What he does know, and what he does say, is a simple truth.

“I love you,” Lucas says, and he’s never felt more confident. But with the way Eliott’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, he panics again. “You know that, right?”

Eliott leans forward so that their foreheads touch gently, and Lucas feels the movement when he nods.

*

Lucas makes it to L'asso around 8. The next few hours go by in a blur, he can’t focus on anything but the sad smile Eliott gave him that looked artificial for the first time in who knows how long. It scares him, because Lucas is used to being the one faking it, the one to put on a smile when he wanted to scream. So seeing Eliott do it too - it’s a sign that everything is beyond repair.

Lucas nervously picks at the skin on his nail bed, running his index finger back and forth over the peeling layer. The skin is raw and aching, how his heart feels inside on display in his hands.

*

Lucas isn’t paying attention when he ascends the stairs back to the apartment, too busy catching up on the group chat and an update on Basile’s amazing life in Canada.

Loud laughter from above makes him look up, and he identifies the source: three people walking out of their apartment. Lucas doesn’t recognize them, doesn’t think he’s ever seen them before. There’s a girl with long braids and a denim jacket who has her arm around a petite redhead and a tall blond guy with glasses following from behind.

They eventually pass each other on the stairs, all smiling kindly in Lucas’ direction - but in a way anyone would as they pass a neighbor, not someone you recognize.

He swallows before opening the unlocked door, eyes immediately finding Eliott cleaning up beer bottles and ashtrays around the place. He watches for a minute, wondering when Eliott will notice he’s home. When Lucas sees him cross the kitchen he notices there’s a thick envelope on the counter. He knows what it is, has seen the familiar logo whenever Eliott goes to get his film developed.

Lucas picks at the skin on his thumb again, pulling it back farther.

Eliott doesn’t notice him until his keys make a sound in the dish by the front door, turning toward him as he throws out the bottles. 

Neither of them say anything, just smile flatly at each other and wait for the other to break the silence.

Eliott is the one who does.

“How was the meeting?”

Okay, small talk. He thinks he can manage that.

“It was cool,” Lucas says. Then he feels like that’s not good enough; it’s the third time he’s avoided Eliott’s questions today and the third time he doesn’t really answer them. So he adds: “The guys missed you.”

“Sure they did,” Eliott says lightly, but the way it hangs in the air makes his gut churn.

Lucas doesn’t know how to react to that. He doesn’t know - and that’s just it. He doesn’t know if he should make a joke about it and level the playing field, or turn the conversation into one they desperately need to have. He doesn’t know what Eliott means by that, he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep quiet about everything he’s feeling, he doesn’t know who was just in their apartment minutes ago. 

And Lucas is so tired of not knowing.

“What about you? Did you have a good night?” Two can play at this game.

Eliott bites his cheek and answers dryly. “Yeah, you know, pretty chill.”

Lucas still feels weird about Eliott’s comment, and he makes the mistake of addressing it again.

“They did miss you.” 

_I miss you._

It’s so quiet it almost doesn’t reach across the room. (It’s true - the first thing Yann and Arthur asked him was about what Eliott was up to.)

Eliott looks down at that, and Lucas hates the wrinkle it makes on his forehead. It’s then that Lucas realizes how long it’s been since he’s seen him smile - like, _really_ smile - and Lucas feels at fault. Why can’t he make him smile anymore? 

Lucas comes to sit at the table, close to where Eliott is leaning on the island. Eliott’s eyes are dark now, greyer than he’s ever seen them. Almost challenging, like he’s on defense.

He watches as Eliott’s Adam’s apple moves down his throat as he swallows.

“So would you have told them about our relationship if I had been there, or only behind my back?”

Lucas’ eyes widen at the question, but he feels his heart ache with the way his boyfriend’s eyes seem to soften, glisten, even. 

_Oh, hey, is Eliott coming? Or are you still stressing about things between you two?,_ he remembers from earlier.

Lucas realizes now, they’ve already hit the iceberg - that’s exactly when they did. And they’ve been treading water ever since.

“I don’t—”

“Just, talk to me, Lucas. What’s wrong?” Eliott almost pleads.

Lucas lets out a big breath, fighting to keep tears at bay. That’s a loaded question he doesn’t have a simple answer for. The better question, probably, is: what isn’t?

“Nothing’s... _wrong_ , I—”

Eliott stands now, his height looming over Lucas in a way that normally gives him butterflies, but terrifies him now.

“Would you stop that? I’m trying to understand what’s going on with you, something you seem to be telling everyone but me.” He sounds hurt, like the words have been stuck in his throat with both pain and relief as a result.

Eliott doesn’t move, those eyes on him are stormier than ever. “You think I don’t notice that you’ve basically been avoiding me for weeks? Come on, what is this really about?”

Fuck, of course he noticed. Lucas was kidding himself if he thought Eliott wouldn’t have. He hates that it took this long for it to come out, for them to finally address it. For Eliott to ask.

Lucas knows he’s guilty of this but all he can think is to deflect because, he thinks, Eliott isn’t so innocent either.

“Why don’t you talk to me anymore? About your friends and your projects and, I don’t know, normal things boyfriends are supposed to tell each other?” Lucas vaguely gestures to the front door he saw those three strangers walk out of, “I mean, I just— I don’t know who any of your new friends are and… and I feel like—“ He sighs in defeat. “Like I don’t even know you.”

Eliott starts to raise his voice, and there’s an empty feeling rising that makes it even harder to breathe. “You never asked!”

Lucas hates that he never asked.

_Hey, are you okay?_

_So, were you going to tell me what’s going on?_

_How was the meeting?_

_Just, talk to me, Lucas. What’s wrong?_

_Come on, what is this really about?_

Eliott did the asking and here Lucas was, the one expecting answers from him. A sudden wave of shame and guilt washes over him and he feels it in his entire body, difficult to breathe as he drowns in it. 

Lucas stands there, mouth open like he wants to say something, but he’s so scared it’s the wrong thing. Something like, _I shouldn’t have to ask_ or _you could just tell me anyway_ or _I miss talking to you and listening to you and I can’t help but feel like this is the last time I will_.

Anger wins in the end. “I shouldn’t have to ask, Eliott!”

They’re starting to yell, and it only adds fuel to the fire that he didn’t know had started - can’t recall it ever catching flame, just that there’s a burning emptiness in his chest.

“What are you talking about? I tell you plenty, Lucas.” He has his arms stretched out in disbelief and lets them down as he heaves a sigh. 

“Oh yeah? Then what about the strangers that came out of our apartment not even an hour ago?” 

Lucas hates that they’re yelling now, because once they do he knows they’ll never stop. They’re alike that way: stubborn and hot-headed, always letting things bottle up until they explode.

It’s twisted, that a part of Lucas is glad that they’re arguing, and that he got to play that card, not having anything to back up his doubts before. And because he thinks that even this is better than the deafening silence and the pathetic way they kept dancing around each other for who knows how long now.

“Come on, Lucas, they’re just uni friends who came over for a few beers.” 

Lucas scoffs. “You know all of my friends,” he tries.

“Yeah, and they seem to know more about me than—” He stops, throwing his hands up and turning away.

Lucas follows. “You never tell me anything, so every time you go I drive myself fucking crazy thinking about the possibilities of—” 

His voice is shaking from both fear and anger, and his eyes are welling with tears already. He tries to blink them away; he hates that he cries so easily. And hates that he cries when he’s angry, because that’s what he is. Angry with himself, angry at Eliott, at the fucking string he is watching fray little by little until it’s barely hanging on anymore.

Eliott turns. “Of what?” 

The air is thick and they both taste it.

“Nothing, forget it.” Lucas looks down and picks at his nail again. 

Eliott’s eyes narrow and his jaw clenches.

Lucas should have known he wouldn’t get away with that one. Eliott hasn’t stopped looking at him; Lucas can feel his eyes tracking every microexpression he makes. He starts to panic, breath coming out fast and short and lip quivering as he desperately tries to control his tears. It’s like Sunday, but so much worse. There’s no camera between them, no device doing the reflecting; Lucas has broken down his own mirrors. And meeting Eliott’s worrying eyes is torture, everything he feared on the horizon.

It’s no use pretending anymore, time to come clean.

“I never asked because—” he sighs, defeated. 

He doesn’t know - what happened to them, where any of this is coming from, why it hurts so much to talk about what’s hurting. He’s told Eliott the deepest and darkest things imaginable about his past and his fears, but his greatest one is losing him. And sure they’ve said that before, but Lucas isn’t sure if Eliott really understands that this fear is what makes him how he is, how he loves him so much but is even more terrified to lose that love. 

Maybe the reason he kept holding on when it hurt was because his greatest fear is being alone - and that’s something he hasn’t felt in a long time, as long as he’s had Eliott. But he’s never felt more alone than he does right now, looking at Eliott’s from across the room.

But maybe all this time Lucas was worried about ending up alone, he made Eliott feel just as alone, as alone as he hoped he wouldn’t be. And that makes his blood run cold, the thought of breaking the one promise he made to Eliott - well, to himself, really. He promised he would never let Eliott feel alone. Lucas doesn’t fucking know what love is or what it’s supposed to be, if it’s supposed to hurt or if it just does sometimes. He doesn’t know any of these things, but he knows why he never asked and he knows that he just doesn’t want to hurt anymore.

Lucas lets out a deep breath. This time he swallows his pride, but not the words he’s been holding back - the words that have been living in his throat for too long.

“I never asked because I was terrified of the answer, okay?” He can’t hold back the tears anymore, but he wipes them away the second they fall.

They’re just words, until he says them out loud. They turn into an accusation as they roll off his tongue, in a way he didn’t mean, but it’s too late. And Eliott wouldn’t believe him if he said he didn’t mean it. 

Lucas keeps picking at the shedding skin on his thumb until it peels away and starts to bleed. 

Eliott looks down, frowning, making his forehead wrinkle. He walks back over to the table but doesn’t sit down. Lucas has never felt so small.

“You don’t really think— Lucas, I would never, you know that.” Eliott’s voice has softened but the words are firm. He finally sits down, but now Lucas wishes he were further away.

That soft voice sounds harsh again. “How could you think that? Do you really not trust me?” 

His vision is starting to blur as tears he resents keep escaping. “Of course I trust you,” Lucas chokes out, but it’s not convincing to either of them.

The last thread between them has completely unraveled.

Lucas continues, trying to save anything left there for them. “You disappear sometimes and I can’t help but think—“

It doesn’t work, only makes it worse. Lucas is lost and alone and scared and he hates himself more than anything right now for letting it get this bad. 

The air is heavy between them, the implications of Lucas’ words hanging there. It feels like there’s just no fixing this, not after what Lucas just let slip.

“You don’t trust me,” Eliott mumbles, like he’s just come to a revelation to all their problems.

“You never tell me anything! What am I supposed to think?”

Eliott scoffs. “Anything but that, Lucas!” And then, softer: “You know I wouldn’t do that to you, to us.”

“I don’t know anything anymore,” Lucas admits.

“Is that really what you think of me?” 

They meet eyes and there’s so much hurt in them, he wants to look away, but as he feels like everything is collapsing around them it’s like he just can’t. Like how passersby have to look at a car crash on the side of the road.

“Wait, Eli— I promise I didn’t mean—“

“If that’s really how you feel, after all this time, then…” Eliott looks like he’s at a loss, arms spread in a gesture of _what are we supposed to do now?_

“Eli—”

“Then… I don’t think I can— I don’t think I can do this.”

He stands up, creating enough space to let the words suffocate the air around them.

“This?” As if the years of their relationship can be reduced to such a word. “What are you saying? That you don’t want to be in this relationship anymore?” 

_That you don’t want to be with_ me _anymore?_

“Lucas…” Eliott turns and looks at him like he’s begging not to make him say it, but Lucas manages to stand his ground. 

And in the silence he has his answer - no need to force the words out to kill him twice over. 

“Don’t do this, please, don’t say what I think you’re going to say—” 

Lucas is not above begging, he would get down on his knees and beg and plead and do anything it takes to make Eliott stay.

“What am I supposed to say, then, Lucas?” His voice cracks, and Lucas chokes out a sob.

“That— that we’ll work it out and that you’re not just going to throw away everything we have over—“

“There is no _getting through this_ , don’t you get it? How am I supposed to believe that you trust me?”

Lucas closes his eyes and shakes his head as if it will make him wake up from a terrible dream. 

“You’re right, we don’t even talk anymore. I’ve been trying to get you to talk to me for weeks and... And now there’s no trust, what kind of relationship is that?” 

And maybe Lucas was right, that to love is to hurt. That if he loves too much, it kills him. And of course, that’s the only way he knows how to love - too much. 

“I love you, Eliott. So much.” Too much. “I’m so sorry— for what I said and for not telling you earlier and for everything, okay? I’m so sorry. Please— I love you.”

Eliott turns away and Lucas thinks he hears a mumbled _I can’t do this_. 

“Eli, please. It’s late, let’s just talk about this in the morning and then—“

Eliott still has his back turned. “I think we need some space. This just— it isn’t working, and I think we should…”

Lucas moves so he’s facing Eliott again. “No, you don’t mean that.” He puts his hands on Eliott’s chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt like he’ll disappear unless he keeps him close. “Tell me you don’t mean that.” 

“I can’t,” Eliott says. 

Lucas has to walk away. 

But it happens again, though - when Eliott feels too far he has to bring him closer, too close. 

Lucas takes Eliott’s face in his hands, thumbing away his tears. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me, then I’ll believe you.” He begs, because even if it hurts like hell, he needs to hear it. He knows that either way, it will kill him. 

Eliott looks at him, his gaze unwavering. “Fuck, Lucas. Of course I love you. I love you, but I can’t do this.”

 _Of course I love you._

And it does - kill him. 

_I love you, but I can’t do this._

Why not?

“Why not?” 

“I’ve already been in a relationship without trust, and I-I can’t do it again. And because I love you. We would grow to hate each other and I—“ Eliott chokes out, “I can’t have that.”

_Because I love you._

This is it. They’re breaking up because Eliott loves him. And because he loves Eliott, too much. 

“I think that maybe… we just need some time to figure things out and, fuck, I don’t know. I just can’t do this anymore, Lucas.”

The fire that was burning in his chest has died out, losing the light and warmth it brought. 

Everything blurs after that, and he thinks Eliott says he loves him again, but it can’t heal the wound. 

Lucas grabs his keys and leaves, he just doesn’t feel at home here anymore, feels unwelcome if his love isn’t enough. 

All he’s left with is a broken heart and a bleeding thumb, both the product of his insecurity and the hiding he does behind it. 

He could have cut the ripping skin away to prevent the pain, could have been honest and open with Eliott from the start. But he hid, and lied, and kept picking at the wound. Until it bled. 

*

Lucas doesn’t know where to go, just wanders the Paris streets at who knows what time. His feet take him to the bus stop, getting on with no idea where it’s taking him. There’s a group of girls in sparkly dresses looking like they’re on their way to have a better night than he’s having. So when the bus stops a few minutes later and he sees them get off, he follows. 

They make their way down a street he finds a bit familiar, and ends up in a bar. 

He immediately orders shots and asks to keep them coming, desperate for some distraction from the bleeding. 

His head swims and the room spins, and then there’s a hand on his shoulder and a distant voice. That’s all he remembers until he wakes in the mid afternoon. 

*

Lucas wakes from a deep sleep to the sound of the loud coffeemaker. The whirring in the kitchen is now a Pavlovian response from disturbing his rest all those years in high school.

He blinks his eyes open to see an apartment he’s never stepped foot in and Mika leaning against the counter and making out with his boyfriend, who he comes to find out has been dating for a few months now. And that’s a long time for Mika. 

His entire body aches, his head pounds, and his eyes sting against the sun. It feels like he’s waking up from a nightmare - yeah, that’s what it is. Just a nightmare. Because that’s the only explanation that he’s not waking up to a smiling or snoring Eliott covered in sun. 

But then he sees the blood and raw skin on his thumb and he’s reminded of when it hurt. When he made the mistake of saying things he didn’t mean, or maybe he did, but nevertheless was the nail in the coffin for their relationship. 

Then more from the night before comes back in scattered flashes in his mind, of sparkly dresses and shots and a voice. A voice he now registers as Mika’s, who told some guy trying to hit on Lucas even though he was clearly out of it. _He’s taken, fuck off. Not by me, hell no, but leave him alone._

To which Lucas said, _yeah, I have a boyfriend_ . Then he started to cry, and mumbled into his hands, _at least, I did._

He rubs his eyes hard enough for stars to dance behind them but eventually focus again on the apartment around him - one that is not his own. 

Lucas sees Mika and his boyfriend again. Watching them kiss and touch sends a current through his spine, as if it’s a physical reminder of Eliott’s absence. He should be making coffee and laughing into kisses with Eliott in their kitchen right now, but he had to open his big mouth and ruin everything between them. 

Watching them kiss and feed each other pastries feels like he can replace them with he and Eliott, like he’s watching a memory he has played out in front of him. Like Lucas is on the outside looking in, seeing his life from an observer’s perspective, and it feels too much. 

*

Lucas stays a few days, just moping and crying and avoiding the outside world. He knows his phone has been ringing with texts and calls but also knows they’re not from Eliott - he checked - and can’t bring himself to tell his friends, too ashamed and scared to admit it, and not in the mood to hear the lines they would feed him.

When Mika eventually kicks him out (but tells him _you’re welcome anytime, chaton_ ) to get some fresh air, Lucas reluctantly goes.

He knows _the love of my life just broke up with me_ is not an excuse his professors would accept for missing lectures before final exams. 

It’s Sunday. It’s a beautiful sunny day outside, almost too beautiful. 

Flowers in full bloom, a clear blue sky overhead that looks straight out of a stock photo. Flowers he might have picked and shoved behind Eliott’s ear just to see the smile it would bring. Flowers that he imagines plucking petal after petal in a mantra of _he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not_. 

But that much he never doubted. 

_Of course I love you._

It was never a question of Eliott’s love, but of his trust, of his openness and willingness to let Lucas in. And somewhere in the mess of it all, he realizes now, that the door opens from both sides. Lucas chose to leave the door closed, chose not to push it open for he just waited for it to be pulled by Eliott. He’s as much at fault for this as Eliott, perhaps even more so. Because he loves too much; because he always seems to get in the way of every good thing in his life.

It’s a beautiful almost-summer day. And then there’s Lucas, a sobbing mess as he wanders the streets going god knows where. 

It’s laughable, he thinks, how if he were in a film it would be night and pouring down rain with the dramatic music building, but here he is, walking in silence and warmed by the sun and feeling undeserving of the warmth it brings. 

Lucas wishes it were raining. 

He’s always loved the rain. Even before the best moment of his entire life, kissing Eliott for the first time. He’s always preferred bad weather - or what everyone else calls rainy cloudy days. There’s something refreshing and beautiful he finds in the earth being replenished, of a cycle running its course. The shift in the air before and after a storm, how his mood changes with the weather depending on the day - how pouring rain is conventionally coupled with sadness and melancholy, but there’s a specific feeling he gets as he feels the rain on his skin, like he was meant to let it fall, meant to revel in it rather than hide - and one of his best, no, the best, memory he has is when he got to share that feeling with Eliott. 

He wishes it were raining. Because then he could find another feeling in it, hopefully a comforting one, something to bring back the magic of the one he has from years ago. Maybe it would make the heartbreak hurt a little less. Maybe then he wouldn’t be the only one crying, the only one in a state of change - although a change he could never sense coming. 

He doesn’t know if that’s all true, though. He felt the shift in the air, a change in pressure like that before a storm between him and Eliott, but it had been so long he got used to the calm before that storm, and now he’s suddenly stuck in the aftermath of it. But it’s a beautiful, peaceful aftermath on the physical level - surrounded by light and fresh air, not dampened and darkened by clouds and rain.

So there’s nowhere to hide, his heart and soul spilling out from him on the sunniest day of the year so far. 

He wishes it were raining, because seeing the sun like this reminds him of Eliott. But there he stands, eyes closed against the harsh rays of the unrelenting sun. 

And as their fight replays over and over on a loop in his head, he tries to find anywhere he can to make it hurt any less. And it’s backwards, he thinks, because what would make it hurt less is the admission that Eliott didn’t love him anymore, that he wishes he never met him, anything that would normally be his worst nightmare to hear - for then at least their break up would make _sense_. 

But as he plays it back a seventh, twentieth, hundredth time, he comes up short. Eliott was so...considerate? His choice of words were as gentle as they could be in order to soften the blow. 

But they end up making the knife twist in his back, in his heart, feeling betrayed and blindsided all at once. He wishes Eliott had been more harsh, diminishing the chance for them to ever be together again, so as to not have Lucas’ hopes up even in the slightest.

It hurts more, wishing Eliott had treated him worse, so that he had a reason to dislike him, hate him even. 

But Eliott is _Eliott_ \- he wouldn’t, couldn’t hurt Lucas on purpose if he tried. The pain on Eliott’s face when he said those final words, and the unspoken ones Lucas heard in the silence, was more than Lucas had ever seen before. Like Eliott was not only hurting Lucas, but hurting himself twice over.

And now, what, Lucas is feeling bad for him? He’s the one who ended things. Lucas should be mad, angry, upset - but all he can find himself feeling is just overwhelmed and aching like the Eliott shaped piece of his heart is missing.

And perhaps the worst part, the extra kick to his gut while he’s down: Eliott is the one person Lucas wants to run to with his heart in broken pieces for him to mend. He lost his boyfriend, his best friend, and his partner in everything - all at once.

*

When Lucas comes back to their - his? Eliott’s? - apartment to get his things, he still has trouble with the lock, even when he doesn’t live here anymore. At least that is still the same.

The apartment is empty, and he feels like he’s intruding somehow, even though his life for the past three years is here.

Lucas is on his way out with a box but Eliott opens the door just as he goes to reach for it. 

“Sorry, I was just—” Lucas starts as he tries to sneak past him.

But Eliott stops him, finds his zip-up hanging on the hook by the door, and hands it to him. 

“Just in case you get cold,” there’s a sad yet open look on Eliott’s face, but something about the gesture and words accompanying it doesn’t sit right with Lucas. 

Is it a jab or a tease? And if so, what makes him think that he’s allowed to do that, when they have lost all comfort in their relationship? Is it another way of making it painfully obvious he won’t have Eliott around to keep him warm, that he knows Lucas will ache without it - the warmth? And somehow a jacket will be enough to take its place? Is it a timely reminder that when winter comes, Eliott would still not want to hash things out, that he’s certain he doesn’t want Lucas, not just now, but for the long run?

It’s nearly summer, after all, so he won’t be needing it anytime soon. 

But then he thinks of all the times him and Eliott went to the movies together in all kinds of weather and how cold it always is inside. All those times when Lucas would not so accidentally leave his extra layer at home so that he could steal one of Eliott’s because Eliott is smart and prepared for this exact situation, offering it to Lucas with an _I told you to bring one!_ but giving it to him anyway. Or when Eliott didn’t have one or was wearing a long sleeve he couldn’t just take off, would open his arms and let Lucas cuddle him extra close. 

Or it’s just a simple gesture with no ulterior motive behind it, just suggesting that Lucas have a jacket just in case, nothing else. Because that’s totally something Eliott would do - want him to be safe and comfortable because he has the biggest heart and the kindest soul. The heart and soul he thought would love him forever, but now he’s not so sure, what with their recent calling it quits, no strings left to pull on and bring them close again.

He tries not to cry, because he hates when he cries - or, hates when Eliott sees him cry, especially now. Over a hoodie, for fuck’s sake.

Lucas stands there, feeling undeserving of the kindness or enraged by the potential hidden meaning behind Eliott’s outstretched arm holding the blue zip-up hoodie. 

“Yeah, just in case.” 

Lucas takes the offending garment from Eliott and tosses it into the box he’s holding and leaves, with only a quick glance behind him before he descends the stairs of his temporary home. 

*

Lucas stays with his mother in his childhood home after that. The first night he finds himself staring up at the ceiling wishing for sleep to come. It's not quite dark in the room although it is the middle of the night - the only thing between him and the stars are the roof over his head, the same one he grew up under the shelter of. 

But there are stars in the room, their glow artificial but still too real, in the form of plastic five-point shapes all over the rough surface of the ceiling. They make their way through the darkness, once bringing comfort to his past selves from the terror that lurks in the absence of light. 

But now, the slightest bits of light scattered across the sky of his room are anything but. It's unfair, that’s what it is. Stealing all the light there was during the day and keeping it for later just to mock him; even when the light is gone it’s somehow still there, even in darkness. 

Much like the tiny sliver of hope he keeps hiding in his heart, his own light from the inside that doesn’t seem to go away no matter how much terror lurks there along with it. 

Eventually, Lucas’ heart calms down enough and his eyes fall shut to bring him to sleep under the almost darkness made possible from the stars Eliott lives in above the plastic ones - no matter how far away he is.

*

Countless sleepless nights later, he finds himself looking up at the stars on his ceiling, sheets kicked off because it’s way too hot for them now. 

Lucas knows the shape Eliott’s body makes in the mattress, but it only exists in his head, not having seen it for too many nights.

He sees that box in the corner of the room, where it’s been sitting and collecting dust for weeks. He’s had the urge to reach for it more times than he can count - to open it up and look through the things that resemble a life he had, a person he was, a dream he now let fade away. He wants to open it and take out its contents and hold it close, because he feels broken, or somehow not whole, without it. 

If he can’t have Eliott, at least he’ll always have the memory of when he did. 

At the same time he wants to take that box and burn everything inside, throw it away and as far as possible out of sight and never reach for it again. 

That urge to get rid of it is more of a means of erasing the choices he made - or rather, wishes he made but didn’t, because he was so in his own head to see how easy it could have been to fix this. He doesn’t want to get rid of what’s inside, not really. He doesn’t want to get rid of those memories and tokens of their love and life they once shared - no, he couldn’t do that. 

It’s as if the box is labeled Pandora, or Schrödinger for he’ll never know until he opens it, but opening it could kill what’s inside. But it’s not labeled anything; actually, it was labeled _kitchen - fragile_ but was crossed out in permanent marker. Just another thing that says it held something that it doesn’t anymore.

The only thing keeping him together in the first place is the existence of that box; just knowing that whatever is inside - he doesn’t even remember now - is taking up space in that corner.

Like he has the fact that Eliott loved him, in this universe, to hold onto - no matter how much it hurts to wake up and realize that he doesn’t anymore. Or, well. Eliott said he loves him - as in, loves, in the present tense - even as he was breaking up with him, even as he ended their four year relationship.

_I love you, but I can’t do this._

How fucked up is that? Love is about the trying, the doing even when you feel like you can’t, isn’t it? 

Then again, who is Lucas to know what love really is. The person he thought changed it all for him ended up breaking his heart in the most caring yet ruthless of ways: with love.

That one sentence comes to haunt him any time his mind begins to wander, any time he actually starts to focus on anything but the absence of Eliott in his life. _I love you, but I can’t do this._

And all he can think after that: but isn’t that enough? Isn’t love enough? Why wasn’t it? Why isn’t it? 

Or maybe: _can it be? Can we make it so?_

That is simultaneously the very thing that makes him ache and keeps him going. Even just the slightest, barely there, hint of hope he chooses to keep between the cracks in his heart like a coin in his pocket. That maybe, just maybe, love could be enough.

Even if it hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, ok, i know....you are allowed to yell at me  
> but now that we're done w the breaking up part we can get to the making up part, so!!
> 
> thank you for reading, i would really love to hear anything you think about this chapter, it was a Lot to write but your reaction to this fic has been so worth it and i really did enjoy writing it :')
> 
> and find me on tumblr [@luxandobscurus ](https://luxandobscurus.tumblr.com/)!


	3. saved our words for ourselves / a novel idea at the time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> somehow this turned into another 10k words. just a heads up that the last tag is there for a reason, that reason being this chapter - but it's not graphic 
> 
> special shoutout to kit, dyamond, and ellie for being lovely and reading over my mess of a draft before it became this fic!! and thank you so so much for all the kudos n comments, they mean the world :')
> 
> chapter title (again) from 'like we used to' by kevin garrett

**_as autumn turns to winter_ **

  
  


They say time heals all wounds, and perhaps that is partly true - Lucas’ heart being the wound that may not apply here. It’s been months, six months exactly. And he wouldn’t say he’s healed with time, instead the wound just changing with the seasons. It went from a sharp excruciating pain to more of a constant dull ache that would sometimes grow numb. Numb enough to make him not want to get out of bed for days even though he couldn’t sleep.

Time is not necessarily on his side, not when the hours in the night tick so slowly he barely feels like time is passing at all.

His heart is a tender bruise, ugly and misshapen from wear and painful to the touch. Painful when he feels a memory pressing on the wound until he gives in to the discomfort, waiting it out until it fades before another one comes along to add pressure to the muscle.

It’s the little things that Lucas misses. 

It’s the silence as a trailer for a new film on TV that is usually filled with a comment from Eliott, it’s seeing a classmate using that specific pen Eliott likes and refuses to use anything else because he’s so picky and adorable that way. It’s the pizza crusts that sit on his plate in front of him, for Eliott would always eat them because they were his favorite part. 

Lucas is at the local pizza restaurant with the guys and Basile is in town visiting, an old tradition from high school they’re bringing back for the weekend he’s here.

It’s also one of the places he took Eliott on one of their first official dates. Lucas had been so nervous about being out in public with a boy on an  _ actual _ date, a boy as handsome and kind as Eliott. 

_ “Honey? You’re kidding, right?”  _

_ Eliott returned from the counter with a bottle of honey, of all things, at a pizza place. He just laughed and it made Lucas’ stomach flip.  _

_ “You’ve never tried it on the crusts? It’s the best, I swear, you have to try it!” _

_ Lucas watched him pour some on his plate to dip the leftover pizza crust into it and laughed at his boyfriend.  _

_ “You are so weird.” _

_ “I thought we liked weird?” _

_ And with that, Lucas tried a bite before shaking his head fondly and humming  _ I love you _ into a sticky sweet kiss. _

The memory plays with his heart, and he can feel it pressing the wound again.

Lucas also misses the big things. The empty space in the bed next to him he still knows the shape Eliott’s body makes when he’s laying in it, going out with the guys and not having an arm around his shoulder or a body to lean into, and without the jokes and banter from their friends about how annoying they are with the PDA. 

It’s hard to even think about himself without Eliott after all these years, especially with the way his now ex-boyfriend would always talk about them as an item. Even as they were breaking up.  _ You know I wouldn’t do that to you, to us. _ And even that morning Eliott said he had a dream about him - or, well,  _ you... us.  _

“Don’t you think?”

Lucas is snapped out of his thoughts by Basile asking him a question he doesn’t know the context to. 

“What?”

“That it’s a dealbreaker?” Basile looks at him expectantly. 

Lucas turns to Yann with wide eyes silently asking to back him up here, but his best friend just smiles sadly like he knows exactly what Lucas was thinking about when he wasn’t paying attention. 

Arthur groans across from Lucas. “I don’t see what the big deal is, anyway. If I like her then that’s all that matters, right?”

“But she’s your boss, dude,” Yann chimes in. 

“Oh and you’ve never fallen for someone you weren’t supposed to?”

It’s kind of a low blow but Yann acquiesces. 

Lucas remembers Alexia telling him all those years ago: “You don't choose who you fall in love with.” 

_ Some of them break your heart when they promised they wouldn’t. _

Yann grips his shoulder in a comforting squeeze and Lucas returns the sad smile from before. 

Yann was there to pick up the pieces a week after the breakup because Lucas couldn’t bring himself to call or ask for his best friend, he just felt too ashamed and broken to utter the words. And maybe a small part of him thought he deserved it - deserved to have everything he loved ripped away from him, because to love was to hurt, after all.

He could tell Yann was absolutely livid that Lucas didn’t tell him about it before he showed up at his mother’s house, wanting to yell at him for disappearing without a trace, but when Lucas just fell into his chest and cried for days Yann kept his scolding to himself and was the best friend Lucas needed.

When Lucas asked how he knew, he was shocked to find out that Yann just...didn’t. As in, Eliott didn’t tell him.

_ (“Where’s Lucas?” Yann asked a shy Eliott who opened the door to their apartment.  _

_ Eliott leaned against the door and twisted his mouth.  _

_ “I don’t know.” _

_ “You don’t know? Well, did he tell you where he went? Or what the hell is going on that he won’t reply to anyone’s texts the whole weekend?” _

_ Eliott sighed and let his hand holding the edge of the door fall to his side.  _

_ “He...he didn’t tell you?” _

_ “Tell me what?” Yann asked, genuinely confused and now a little worried.  _

_ “Um, never mind. I’m sure he will tell you everything when he’s ready.” _

_ “Wait, shit, is it bad?”  _ You could say that. _ “Fuck, I hate when he does this.” _

_ Eliott swallowed and leaned in closer to Yann. “Have you tried _ — _ I mean, maybe he’s at his mom’s?”  _

_ “Oh, yeah, I hope she’s alright,” Yann said in a way that sounded like he connected the dots. But was he way off.  _

_ Yann turned to leave, but then asked: “Do you… are you coming too?” _

_ Eliott looked so small standing there and avoided Yann's eyes.  _

_ “Okay, uh, I’ll make sure he lets you know how things are when I find him.” _

_ Eliott choked out, “Okay,” before closing the door.) _

Lucas zones out again, taking to his water glass instead as if it would force the bitterness out of his mouth. 

He didn’t like that any time they went out the guys would take pity on him and think he didn’t notice. It was obviously very difficult to talk about relationships around him, and Lucas appreciated that they were sensitive to it, but it made him feel worse sometimes when they acted like they couldn’t say what they felt without fearing he’d get upset over it.

And with Basile back in town, Lucas feels some of that pressure off his shoulders with the attention on him instead. The gang's back together again for the first time since the beginning of the year so there’s a lot to catch up on, thankfully excluding his breakup with Eliott. Not that Lucas is in the mindset or has the heart nor energy to stay engaged in the conversation.

He lets himself surrender to the memories having a field day with his healing heart, and they get so vivid Lucas almost thinks he can see Eliott before him.

Then he hears a voice like it calls him home, and he’s not so convinced it’s a dream anymore.

“Oh shit,” Arthur mumbles. It’s all the sign he needs to know that he’s right.

Lucas turns in his seat to see Eliott walking in, his cheeks dusted pink from the almost winter weather. He’s also wearing a sweater Lucas’ mother got him for their first Christmas together and Lucas wants to scream or cry, he doesn’t know.

A few moments later Eliott sees them and slowly makes his way over to the table. He greets the guys and then his eyes fall on Lucas, who can’t return eye contact. He just can’t.

There’s no denying the awkwardness; it’s one of those situations where it’s difficult to tell if it’s more awkward to say hi or to pretend they didn’t see each other.

Eliott has his shoulders close to his ears like his waiting for someone to say something, and Lucas makes the mistake of looking up at his face. 

Eliott whispers, “Can we...can we talk?”

Lucas’ legs take him to the front of the restaurant even though his mind is short circuiting. 

So that’s it. It’s the first time they’ve seen each other since that day at the apartment when Lucas packed his life into boxes and out of their home.

It hurts to see him in real life, as opposed to his dreams every night he’s either lucky enough to forget by morning or unlucky enough to replay on loop until the next one. Lucas almost wants to pinch himself to make sure he’s not still dreaming, unbelieving of the fact that he’s actually seeing Eliott again in a place that doesn’t exist outside of his head.

But it’s Eliott, the real Eliott - he can tell by the way he nervously chews his lip and rolls back and forth on the balls of his feet. The only thing missing is the fidgeting hand on the strap of his backpack and they’d be back in high school again, nervously flirting and apologizing for missteps caused by the same nervousness.

Lucas keeps having these bouts of déjà vu, but with the details and context all off that makes it not quite a reenactment of previous events, but new enough to make his stomach flip; the coexistence and juxtaposition of present and past making itself abundantly clear. Add in the endless possibilities of the future and the anxiety that comes with it, and it’s a perfect recipe for heartache and turmoil, he thinks.

But then there’s Eliott, his anchor and his rock, and he thinks of that spring day he held Eliott’s chin and told him they would live _ minute by minute, starting now _ . And Lucas never said they should stop, the invisible clock left ticking and ticking as the numbers continued to add up until the current minute, the current second.

He wonders if in their time apart Eliott also remembers the name of their game, if it ever brought him solace or comfort. He hopes it did; he hopes it does.

Lucas doesn’t know how to act, or even know how he’s supposed to act - he’s never had an ex before, not really (Sara and Chloé hardly count). He wants to look over to Yann for at least an encouraging nod but then Eliott is talking and Lucas feels frozen in place.

“What?” He was too busy freaking out to even comprehend the first words Eliott has said to him since  _ I just can’t do this anymore, Lucas _ and  _ just in case you get cold _ .

His heart sinks at their last interaction, and Lucas attaches the sentiment to the words -  _ just in case you get cold without me, because when autumn turns to winter I won’t be around. _

Lucas can feel his nose starting to sting, a tell-tale sign of tears coming. He closes his eyes and mentally wishes the feling away, because he is not going to cry in front of Eliott in a fucking pizza restaurant.

“I was just saying that it’s nice to see you and— or, just— uh, how are you?” 

Lucas didn’t know how to act before and now he genuinely doesn’t know how to answer—

“Shit, sorry, that was a stupid question, wasn’t it?” Eliott laughs nervously, and for some reason it makes Lucas feel a little better.

Arthur once asked him _ aren’t you curious what you’re missing? _ but Lucas isn’t; ever since Eliott he never thought about being with anyone else. Lucas never thought about what he could be missing, because everything felt right with him. He was quite certain the universe wouldn’t bless him twice with anyone as good as Eliott anyway. 

He thinks about that first day together, just laying in his bed - or, technically Manon’s - and how safe and comfortable Lucas felt next to him. How his shaking hands and shallow breath were calmed when he looked into Eliott’s eyes, so open and kind that he didn’t need to be scared, not with him. And how Lucas began to open up too, about his parallel universe theory he hadn’t talked about with anyone. And how Eliott feared the thought of missing out, of his other versions getting a better life than his. 

But Lucas knows that he was able to convince him otherwise. Well, Eliott said he still finds it scary to think about what he’s missing in other universes, but on the first morning after they moved in together - in  _ their _ bed - bodies intertwined and hands roaming freely just like that day after Valentine’s Day, Eliott told him so. Told him that even though he’ll admit it’s hard not to fear the overwhelming idea of millions of alternate versions of himself, he knows that each one of them finds their Lucas, and he knows that in this universe, he is the Eliott who has it best. 

Lucas swallows hard standing in front of him now, and pulls the arrows out of his heart at the idea he must have changed his mind about that: about being the Eliott who has it best.

Eliott brings a cigarette to his lips and cocks his head signaling they should take this outside. Lucas follows, just like he had the first time they ever spoke. Lucas would follow him anywhere, he thinks.

They step out onto the sidewalk as Eliott lights the cigarette, and Lucas is envious of the warmth that it sparks for winter is well on its way.

“I tried to quit, you know,” Eliott tells him while ironically blowing smoke past his lips. Lucas stares at them a moment too long.

“Oh,” is all he can say in reply, somewhere between a statement and a question. 

Eliott looks at him - looks at him like he’s not sure Lucas is really there.

He takes another drag. “Some things you just can’t give up.”

Lucas forgets how to breathe for a moment; the way Eliott sees through him feels like they’re not talking about smoking anymore. 

They stand there in silence and Lucas feels the need to carry the conversation as Eliott finishes his cigarette, but the words don’t come. He wants to say so many things -  _ I miss you, I love you, I hate that I miss you and I love you so much it hurts _ . 

Eventually the chilly air seeps into his bones and Eliott stomps out the cigarette on the concrete under his boot, and it may as well be Lucas' heart.

“Can I ask you something?”

Lucas takes a shaky breath and nods.

“So my professor submitted some of my pieces to a gallery and I was wondering if there was any chance you’d want to come to my art show? You don’t— I mean, you can totally say no, I don’t want to pressure you in any way and I probably don’t deserve your company, but I guess I just thought I would ask, because I’m actually kind of freaking out about it and just. Anyways.” Eliott exhales and his breath is visible in the chilly air, as if he was still blowing smoke.

“Eliott—” 

It’s all Lucas can say right now, too much to take in all of a sudden. Eliott’s art is being put in a show, Eliott is anxious about it, Eliott wants Lucas to come. His voice is shaky but confident and his eyes are vulnerable but open, and he embodies this nervous excited energy that makes Lucas’ heart beat irregularly. He’s missed him so much, just to be next to him is enough to have his hands shake, but maybe it’s just the cold.

His first instinct is to say  _ I wouldn't miss it  _ but as the thought lingers, Lucas realizes how much he would have to prepare himself to spend a whole evening with Eliott - his now ex-boyfriend, he realizes suddenly. 

So instead of saying he’d be there he says he’ll think about it, and Eliott looks relieved in a way, like he thought Lucas would never want to go so he’ll take a maybe in stride.

“Yeah, just think about it. It’s not for two weeks, so. I’d be really happy if you came.”

Eliott smiles then, and it’s one that Lucas knows. It’s an Eliott smile caused by Lucas, and he wants to disappear into a puddle of tears from seeing it after so long without it.

All of a sudden everything is too much, Lucas is overwhelmed with everything Eliott after literal months with nothing. And the invitation to see him again implies something more but it also doesn’t, and Lucas’ head is spinning with what that possibly means for them. He can’t handle it right now, and he needs Yann to tell him it will all be okay or something to calm him down from spiraling into a nervous wreck.

“Okay,” Lucas chokes out, then clears his throat. “You should probably get your food before it gets cold.”

Something flashes on Eliott’s face but Lucas can’t afford to process it at the moment. Lucas turns to go back inside until Eliott’s voice has him turning back.

“That’s what the oven is for, anyway.” A beat. “Can always get the warmth back somehow.”

Eliott nods and opens the door for them, letting Lucas in first. And  _ fuck _ Eliott and his cryptic words that make Lucas think into them; why can’t he just say what he fucking means for once and leave his heart alone? 

Lucas sits down at the table and it’s like a grey cloud has settled over it, the enthusiastic conversations from his friends halt when they see him.

“Like Rachel and Tag—” Basile is cut off by Arthur’s elbow to his ribs.

The boys whisper-argue but all Lucas can focus on is Eliott walking out with a pizza box in hand and wonder if it’s enough for two people and who Eliott could possibly be sharing it with and—

“And?”

Lucas is once again snapped back to reality.

“How did it go?” Yann asks lightly, eyes wide and expectant.

Lucas shakes his head and opens his mouth to say something, but the words die on his tongue. Yann rubs his shoulder and he tries to relax.

“I don’t—I don’t know. He said some things you can’t give up and then he invited me to his art show in two weeks.”

The boys all share a look that silently communicates their reactions but Lucas can’t deal with any of this not knowing and dancing around anymore.

“So? Help me out here, guys,” Lucas pleads.

“Well, that’s good, right?” Basile says. “It means he wants to see you again.”

“Do you want to see him again?” Yann asks, the hand on his shoulder resting in place.

“I mean, yeah, I want to see him again.”  _ Even though it hurts. _ “But— I just don’t know if I can, after all this time. I mean, does he want me there as like, a friend, or what?”

He looks at his friends, silently begging for some comfort that he’s not out of his mind for freaking out about this. 

“I’m not sure, Lucas. I think he just wants you there as you. He wants you there, and you want to be there, so maybe that’s your answer.” When did Basile get so wise?

“Yeah, sometimes it’s as simple as that. Don’t overthink it,” Arthur adds.

It isn’t going to stop him from overthinking it, but he appreciates the sentiment.

Yann turns so that he’s facing Lucas. “But if you decide you don’t want to or you don’t think you can, then that’s okay. We’re here for you, man.”

Lucas lets out a deep breath. He’s so grateful for his friends, he doesn’t know what he’d do, or what he would have done, without them.

“Do you...do you think he wants to get back together?”

It’s not a fair question to ask, because as much as Lucas wants his friends to reassure him that he won’t be heartbroken forever, it’s clear that they can’t do that.

His breathing gets uneven like there’s too much air in his lungs but no way to let it out.

Basile shrugs like he’s trying to find a way to help. “He’s your lobster, Lucas, I’m sure you guys will find your way back to each other.”

Lucas laughs, and his chest feels lighter. “Bas, what the fuck are you even talking about?”

“Your lobster!” He exclaims like he can’t believe they don’t understand the reference. “It just means that you’re meant to be.”

Lucas thought so, too. He’s not so sure about it right now, but he lets his stupid and wonderful friends make jokes and eats more pizza regardless. 

He doesn’t want to admit it, but that sliver of hope grows inside his heart and warms him against the approaching winter.

*

When the fall semester started, Lucas moved in with Yann. He decided it was time to finally open that box, and was met with only the happiest of memories from his life with Eliott. 

He was surprised to find the jacket he forgot was in there, having survived the cold months without the warmth it brings, as well as without it from Eliott. He also finds little things like his favorite shaving cream, a scarf, and a pale yellow sticky note. 

Lucas almost didn’t reach for it, not really in the mood to see a cute hedgehog and raccoon drawing he hasn’t received in months. But the curiosity was killing him, and after half a year he thought it was high time he just accepted the fact that they really are broken up, not together anymore, starting to feel permanent. Not like Ross and Rachel who were just on a break.

His heart broke and he found himself stuck in that limbo again. That in between feeling where hope blossomed inside the cracks in his heart, but also reminded of the pain he went through to get here, to have that hope again, only for time to prove it isn’t worth it.

But he let himself feel everything, because there was so much good, even the bad couldn’t take that away from him.

Which is why, like that tiny sliver of hope in his cracked heart, he decides he will consider Eliott’s offer to visit his art show. Lucas doesn’t know if he’s actually up for that, but if there’s a chance that it will be another good thing to add to that box then he’s willing to take that chance. 

Lucas weighs his options in his mind and is absolutely torn between the two: to go or not. It’s not a question of does he  _ want _ to because the answer to that is simple: of course he wants to see Eliott’s art. He’s always loved anything Eliott created, even if it had some abstract meaning he didn’t understand or some technical element that flew right over his head. It was always so exciting and heartwarming to see Eliott’s heart and soul in a physical form, a talent and a creativity Lucas only aspires he could attain. 

It’s more a question of  _ should _ he or  _ can _ he even prepare himself for such an event. That’s the hard part. He doesn’t know the etiquette of reuniting with an ex who he still loves, and still loves him. They obviously have spent some time apart to lose their chemistry, their comfort with each other. And who knows what could go down when they see each other again. 

He mulls it over in his mind, literally until the last minute. He realizes that the one thing he does know is that he loves Eliott - and because he loves him he thinks he can do it. And a smaller part of him thinks that if he were the one on Eliott’s shoes, he would hope Eliott would go too. And most of all, he’d do anything to see that smile again.  _ I’d be really happy if you came _ .

Lucas eventually decides  _ fuck it _ . He wants to go, and deep down he knows he could never say no. 

*

The gallery is a short bus ride away; he’s greeted with a plastic champagne flute at the entrance and someone taking his coat. Lucas feels a little underdressed for the event but there’s an inviting atmosphere that pulls him in to look at all the amazing art on the walls.

He knows exactly which pieces are Eliott’s without even reading the title cards. There are five prints that fill an entire wall in the middle of the gallery, one of many around the room. Some spectators have just left and Lucas goes to stand in front of them, utterly in awe.

They’re all black and white film photos, but it looks like they’ve been tinted in different shades of blue. The photos go from darkest to lightest, swallowed up in either blacks or whites.

The first photo is of the empty warehouse Eliott took them to the week before they broke up, mostly shadows on the cracked concrete floor - and in what looks like blue paint is written:  _ I don’t want to be afraid anymore.  _ Then there’s a photo of Lucas from behind, walking around the empty space and looking upwards. The middle one is almost a perfect balance of darkness and light; it’s a photo of their hands intertwined. On it in blue lettering says:  _ I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my whole life. _ The fourth is a close up of someone Lucas recognizes as himself, his left eye visible between his fingers as he uses a hand to reach out to the lens, which takes up most of the composition, his bright Eliott-induced smile in the bottom corner of the frame. The last photo is almost entirely white - it’s obviously overexposed and looks like some chemicals have tainted the image when it was being developed. Once again Eliott’s handwriting covers the entire print, repeating the phrase:  _ I don’t want you to go. _

He knows the story behind that last one. The first time Eliott took pictures of Lucas on his camera the latter offered to hold it while Eliott got another canister of film out of his bag. Lucas held it in his hands and somehow, he still doesn’t know exactly, the back opened and Eliott was quick to shut it again when he noticed.

_ “Lucas!” _

_ “What? I didn’t even do anything—” Eliott looked distressed. “Sorry,” Lucas breathed sheepishly. _

_ Eliott sighed, obviously upset but trying not to be. It was adorable. “That roll is maybe, probably overexposed now but…” He let out a deep breath and ran a hand through Lucas’ hair. He loves when he does that.  _

_ “It’s fine. You’re so lucky I like you.” _

_ Lucas laughed, a pink blush forming on his cheeks. He felt so bad for ruining the photos, and Eliott was comforting  _ him _ for it. It seemed backwards to him, but it was just another thing to add to the never ending list of reasons he loved the smiling boy in front of him. _

Tears are already welling in Lucas’ eyes. From the photos to the words written on them, from the way he sees himself smiling to the fact that lots of people are here to see it, from the love he feels in his entire being to the passion and talent - and love - in all of Eliott’s reflected in front of him.

“See, I told you it was better than direct sunlight,” Eliott suddenly says behind him. Lucas almost forgot that his photos and art were on display, and that he was in a room full of people.

They’re beautiful - and it nearly takes his breath away. It does, actually, when he finds Eliott standing next to the print of Lucas’ hand in his.

It might be just from the winter air coming in through the open door, but Lucas feels a shiver run through him at the phantom touch the photo brings back, not having held Eliott’s hand since it was captured in the moment on the wall.

“Eliott...these are incredible.”

His hair is that perfect messy mixture like always, and he’s wearing a turtleneck and nice pants paired with none other than his Doc Martens that have a splatter of blue paint on the toe.

“Thanks for coming,” he says sincerely, “I didn’t know if you’d show.”

Lucas wants to say it again: _ I wouldn’t miss it _ . But he just smiles softly and looks at the wall again.

There’s so much he wants to say, something he finds himself feeling a lot recently. He doesn’t know where to start, so he doesn’t.

“Wow,” a man praises as he comes to inspect the photos on Lucas’ left. “The photographer really has a great eye, you can tell.”

Lucas smiles. “Yeah, he really does.”

“Thank you, sir,” Eliott is bashful but goes to introduce himself. “I’m Eliott.”

The kind man shakes his hand and looks over to Lucas for a moment before going back to the prints.

“So, Eliott, tell me about your work.”

Eliott laughs nervously but the way his eyes shine makes Lucas think he’s been wanting to be asked that all night. 

“Of _ — _ of course,” he starts, “So I’ve always loved taking photos, and I’ve been really into film photography recently, just going back to what it was before DSLR and editing softwares. I wanted to strip back all those things and you’re just left with what’s in the frame.”

The man regards this, and goes to look closer at the blue tints on some areas.

“Here,” Eliott points to a certain blue tint of the photo of their hands. “I actually tinted these by hand. I was really inspired by films from the early 1910s, where some scenes were tinted with reds and blues and yellows. It really added to them, especially before sound.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Thank you, it’s a lot harder than it looks,” Eliott laughs. That laugh, that smile - Lucas thinks he could listen to him talk all night long. “I did it on only five photos, I can’t imagine doing it frame by frame a hundred years ago.”

The ease that Eliott has when talking about his work makes Lucas’ heart bloom so much that he thinks it could fill the room. Then it clenches when Lucas thinks about how he is just like this man, not knowing anything about Eliott’s process or passion.

The man nods taking in the new information then points to the last print. “What happened with this one?” 

Eliott looks at Lucas then, and they share a moment that makes Lucas feel like they’re the only people on the entire planet. A moment where Lucas forgets that they were ever apart.

“I could tell you that it’s my way of showcasing the foundation of photography - the capturing of light, or I could tell you the truth and say that there was an...incident where my boyfriend opened the camera and all the frames were overexposed.” Eliott nudges Lucas in the ribs and Lucas stifles a laugh.

“Ah, a silver lining, perhaps,” the man offers with a grin.

“Yeah,” Eliott doesn’t take his eyes off of Lucas. “I’m glad I could capture all the light that day.” 

He lets the words settle in the air until he adds: “It may not be in the frame, but I’ll always remember it.”

Lucas’ mouth is open like he doesn’t know what to say. His breathing is short and it all feels too real. He downs the rest of his champagne and excuses himself to the restroom, and he can feel Eliott’s eyes watching him as he leaves.

He tosses his glass and goes to wash his hands and splash water on his face if not to blame his watery eyes on that rather than tears. He washes his hands again, the same hands that once held Eliott’s. The ones that all the people in the building have seen.

Lucas eventually calms down enough to leave the solace of the bathroom and leisurely makes his way back to the art pieces, stopping to look at a few that catch his eye. He has half a mind to just leave out of the side exit, but decides against it for he would freeze to death without his coat and would never get over the guilt of leaving without saying goodbye.

There are less people now - it’s harder to hide. He watches Eliott talk to more people about his pieces, that big bright smile still on his face. He catches Lucas’ eyes from across the room, and he can’t help but smile. A smile caused by Eliott - one he hasn’t worn in far too long.

Lucas feels like he’s stepped into one of Eliott’s dreams, one where his work is being shown and appreciated by a room full of sophisticated art dealers and museum goers, asking about his passions and inspirations, smiling over to Lucas as he answers because his words aren’t actually for the person interested, but for him.

He feels a little silly staring at Eliott in a room full of his creations, but it’s been so long since he’s seen him, actually looked at him. Lucas wants to memorize the lines of his face so he can recreate them in his dreams, in the one place he knows they’re both happy, if they can’t be in this reality or in this universe. Lucas wants to stare into his eyes, the ones that have specks of green in them tonight, a color he could recall like the back of his hand at one time in his life but feels like a distant memory now. The eyes he loves and hates at the same time, for he just crumbles under their stare, with too much love it could make his heart burst. 

Lucas just wants to capture the joy and passion radiating off of Eliott and the light he creates. He wants to take that light and keep it to himself like the plastic stars on his ceiling, keeping it for when his nights get especially cold and dark without him. 

He wants to have Eliott under his skin because he thinks that’s where he’s always existed, no matter how far Lucas tries to get he’s just always there.

This - this game they’re playing like they used to all the time, it’s exciting and Lucas does everything he can to bite back the smile it’s bringing to his face, for they are in a public place, after all. And what’s more, at a showcase for Eliott’s art, which is huge - Lucas knows how much this means to him although Eliott always says anything after making the art doesn’t matter. But it’s huge, and Lucas is so happy that Eliott asked him to be a part of it, even with the weird relationship they seem to have now. What are they? Exes? Friends? He feels like that box but with  _ boyfriend _ crossed out and a question mark next to  _ friend _ . 

_ Does he want me there as like, a friend, or what? _

_ I think he just wants you there as you. _

_ I’m sure you guys will find your way back to each other. _

But this - this whatevership he finds himself in, he’s okay with it. Lucas has to be, really. Because he can’t stand a second more without Eliott in his life, but it’s torture having him so close and not in the way he wants. He wants him, that’s all. Wants him as a friend, as a boyfriend, as a partner, as a roommate, as someone he can kiss and sleep next to and hold hands with. He wants Eliott how he had him before he didn’t anymore. 

And if there’s a chance Lucas can have Eliott in a way he used to, a way he longs to feel again, he’s going to take it. He’s drunk on the energy bottled up in their own atmosphere and the possibilities the night holds.

So when Eliott asks if he wants to see more photos that didn’t make it into the show, Lucas says yes. They have another one of those moments - one of those moments that feels like it’s the old them. The them they used to be together, when they were out with friends and shared a look across the room that said everything with just their eyes, a  _ let’s get out of here _ look.

It feels good, to be with him. There’s no talk of trust issues or  _ what are you keeping from me _ that riddled the end of their relationship, just the two of them and their undeniable chemistry, with obvious love and lust.

They can’t keep their hands to themselves on the bus back to Eliott’s - or,  _ their _ apartment? It seems that the apartment has some names crossed out in permanent marker, too. Lucas’ skin is buzzing despite the chill in the air and fog on the window next to him. Eliott pulls him by the hand out of the bus and up the stairs in the building, heart pounding and blood rushing in his ears with excitement until they reach their floor.

It’s too familiar and too alien - Lucas doesn’t know what to make of the feeling swirling in his stomach now. He’s grateful Eliott can’t see his face as he tries to pin down the feeling inside, he’s too busy at the door. Instead he concentrates on the fact that Eliott is right here - right in front of him; he recalls the heat of their legs touching on the bus and the hand on his thigh and now his eyes are fixed on the skin at eye level that he just has to reach out and touch.

Lucas attaches his lips to skin above Eliott’s turtleneck as the latter attempts to open the door, taking a hell of a lot longer than they can stand. Pure electricity is radiating off of their bodies they can’t quite contain anymore and it’s so intense Lucas finds he can barely breathe.

“You really need to change this fucking lock,” he laughs into the space between Eliott’s shoulder and neck - Lucas’ favorite place in the world. Lucas tries not to think about his use of the word  _ you _ instead of  _ we _ \- he almost said it, but it’s been too long since he has.

He’s rewarded with a light chuckle from Eliott and then the door finally opens.

Eliott is quick to push Lucas against it once they get inside. Eliott looks at him for just a moment - and it’s both a look he’s seen before but also not at all - a look akin to the one he saw before colliding with him in their first kiss, but now it looks like Eliott’s not sure if he wants to, if he’s allowed. That look is there and then it’s not - gone as quick as it came.

And  _ God _ , does Lucas want to - want him to - but he doesn’t think it would help anything, just make him hurt more than any kiss should. 

So before he has his heart broken a thousandth time now that he gave it to Eliott again the second they met eyes in that museum, Lucas takes the opportunity to sink his teeth into the skin his mouth was on earlier, finally with Eliott pressed up against him now. 

Lucas feels a pained noise come from Eliott’s throat - be it from the swipe of his tongue on the bitten skin or mourning Lucas’ lips on his own, he isn’t sure. But he isn’t given enough time to think about it for the next thing Lucas knows a hand is gripping his hair and their bodies are being pressed impossibly close.

“Lucas—” Eliott pleads into his ear, and fuck, how he missed hearing his name from his mouth. 

It makes his heart catch fire again with a warmth he had been missing - even if it burned. He clings to Eliott now, not sure if he’s doing so out of remembering the feeling he used to know so well or if he’s trying to forget the pain he feels from the circumstances they were in the last time they got this close.

They’re both panting and grabbing at each other and Lucas has no choice but to get caught up in it, like nothing else in the world exists but Eliott. 

Lucas drops to his knees in front of him, undecided which feeling he’s chasing, just that warmth in any way he can.

“Wait,” Eliott gasps; his belt makes a clicking noise as it comes undone. Lucas wouldn’t hear him if not for the hand gripping his shoulder pulling him away. 

“This— this doesn’t have to mean anything...” Eliott breathes out looking down at Lucas. It sounds like a question, or an open-ended statement, like he wants Lucas to answer before they continue. 

Lucas has to look down at his fingers tucked into the waistband of Eliott’s briefs before the latter reads the look on his face; his mind is clouded by lust and he has no brainpower to use on hiding his true answer to that. 

Because there’s that word again.  _ This _ . 

_ I just can’t do this anymore.  _

_ This— this doesn't have to mean anything... _

_ This _ . Eliott says it like he knows that what they’re about to do could change things between them, and in a way that could have very different outcomes. It could be the best decision they ever made, or it could be the worst one. It could feel like coming home and like nothing could stop the elation from it, or it could feel vile and wrong and make everything worse and erase all the good they thought they had.

He’ll admit, it’s scary. Scary what the outcome will be and Lucas is scared that it’s the wrong thing. Deep down he knows it is. But much like that fire burning in his heart again and the hope he’s kept hidden there, he doesn’t let it stop him.

And against every fiber in his being screaming at him not to, Lucas gulps and grips the back of Eliott’s thighs and moves closer. 

“Right,” he breathes, then chances a look up at Eliott under his eyelashes. “Doesn’t have to mean a thing,” he says, like a fucking liar. 

But he’s pretty sure Eliott doesn’t register his tone for his mouth does more sinful things than lie, earning wonton moans and gasps out of him before swallowing the evidence of his mistake. Because that’s what it feels like. A mistake. Even though he had never felt so alive or so connected to Eliott in a long, long time. 

He knew it was wrong, but the stupid glimmer of hope that doesn’t die out no matter what he does had to get in the way and make him willingly do it anyway. 

The burning he feels immediately spreads up to his chest and to his cheeks, suddenly feeling so fucking stupid for agreeing to this - there’s that fucking word again - for showing up to Eliott’s art show and for coming back home with him and for being on his knees before him now.

He should have said no. Lucas should have said no to all of it, because he fucking knew better, knew not to let Eliott in so easily just to end up feeling like this yet again.

Lucas goes to put one foot flat on the floor and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand when he feels wetness on his cheek, and it’s then that he realizes tears are falling.

He wipes them away hastily hoping to catch them before Eliott sees, but he probably wouldn’t be too surprised with what events just occurred.

As Lucas stands Eliott immediately pulls him up faster; soon there’s hot breath on the shell of his ear and hands dancing dangerously low.

Lucas would be frozen still if not for the way his body involuntarily seems to melt and lean into every touch, and then they’re making their way to the bedroom where Eliott pushes him onto the bed and goes to reach for Lucas’ pants.

Lucas can barely see the bathroom from his view from the edge of the bed past Eliott’s shoulder, and he can see part of their reflection in the mirror along with the glow from lights near the shower.

His clouded mind could be playing tricks on him or it could be some trick of light, but he’s pretty certain that he can make out his clear bottle of shampoo - and the fact that there is a lot less product than he remembers there being the last time he used it.

And sure, Eliott could have run out and just went to use what was there. But he also sees Eliott’s favorite shampoo right next to it, looking relatively unused.

Lucas can’t explain why or how a bottle of fucking shampoo could make tears prick at his eyes again - especially not with Eliott’s lips on the skin of his lower abs - but an immense feeling of regret washes over him now. 

He looks to the ceiling instead, hoping to focus his mind on anything other than Eliott in the shower thinking of him while he washes his hair, but as Lucas looks at the boring white ceiling he’s also reminded of the countless times he had looked at it while Eliott fucked him, or the sleepless nights he spent staring at it wishing from sleep to claim him.

When Eliott runs his hands down Lucas’ sides the latter can feel the touch branding the skin. It’s enough to shake him out of his daze, not from lust, but from being so in his head he didn’t even register his pants being halfway down his legs. Lucas goes to grab the offending hands and pulls them away, sitting up suddenly.

“Stop! Stop, please, stop,” he hears himself say.

Eliott does so immediately. “Lucas, wh— what’s wrong? Are you okay? I’m sorry if I _ — _ ”

Lucas takes a deep breath. He looks at Eliott and has to reassure him it was nothing about the way he was touching him, because if he could stop overthinking for one second Lucas would welcome it eagerly. 

“It’s okay, just…” 

And the look in Eliott’s eyes makes his heart clench, the dark wanting look in them slowly being replaced with genuine concern. Lucas can’t look any longer or else the rest of his restraint will dissolve, suddenly forgetting why he would ever turn this down.

Lucas goes to reach for his jeans and pulls them back up and when he stands to button them he ignores the flush he notices in his reflection. 

“Just,” Lucas continues, hoping for that look on Eliott’s face to disappear. 

_ This— this doesn't have to mean anything…  _ Lucas thinks about it again, the clouds of lust finally dissipated now. How could anything not mean something? Especially when it came to them, to Eliott? Everything means something, Lucas thinks - everything means too much sometimes.

Which is why he can’t stay here any longer, he needs to leave before this turns into something that means too much, or not enough - not in the way he wants it to.

“We sh— I shouldn’t have come here. I can’t... I have to go. Sorry.”

Just as he turns to leave the room, Eliott speaks up.

“Lucas, wait. Wh—” 

Lucas can probably finish that sentence.  _ What do you mean you shouldn’t have come here? What happened between the front door and now? Why aren’t you talking to me, again? _

Before he can ask any of them, Lucas decides to do the asking for once. Because he has to - this uncomfortable air between them is too much pressure against his lungs and the question has been weighing heavy on him ever since.

“Why did you invite me tonight?”

Eliott’s breath hitches at the question, a slow blush reaching his cheeks. Lucas didn’t mean  _ why did you invite me here _ , but to the art show in general.

“I didn’t— I didn’t invite you so that anything would happen,” Eliott vaguely gestures to the bed, to what clearly isn’t going to happen now. “I guess I just…” He shrugs, that adorable little shrug, but his shoulders are much heavier than ever. “I don’t know.” 

He looks at Lucas, his gaze unwavering again. It does weird things to his chest but Lucas is too entranced to look away now.

“I just really wanted you to be there. And, selfishly, I wanted to see you.”

Lucas sighs, and he thinks he can hear his heart break again. “Eliott…”

His face changes then. “But you’re right. This was a bad idea and I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I’m really sorry, Lucas.” He takes a step forward.

Lucas steps back. It’s too much, Eliott taking the blame for something Lucas had desperately wanted too, for something that Lucas could have simply said no to. And  _ fuck _ now he thinks he really, really should have said no - because Eliott wouldn’t be looking at him like that, like he just broke his heart again. 

But, Lucas thinks, maybe it was never not broken in the first place. If anything, Eliott was the one who mended it, or at the very least just held it safely in his loving hands, close to his own heart.

Lucas realizes now, love isn’t supposed to hurt. And he thinks that maybe it never did, but he decided to blame all his hurt on love for a reason he wishes he knew. Because Eliott didn’t cause his broken heart to crumble a moment ago, a combination of things unrelated to him did. Regret, guilt, sorrow, loneliness, anxiety, among probably a million more feelings compounded in his heart and enough to do the damage. 

But love never did that, love is Eliott holding him when he cried or kissing his hand just because. Love is the home he made for himself - here, with Eliott. 

Lucas thinks he has never loved Eliott more than he does right now, after coming to this revelation and looking at him in a different light after all these years.

He thinks he sees it now, understands what Eliott meant when he said  _ I love you, but I can’t do this _ . Lucas considers that day again, for the millionth time now, he’s sure. But it’s also for the first time - the first time he recalls the words without stinging, able to see past the hurt he thought was laced in the love. Able to see deeper into the intention and motivation behind them. 

He loves Eliott more by the second, as the pieces finally come together in his brain when he can see that his statement wasn’t a conditional one - an  _ I love you but _ … - and he sees that it was more of a conflict of  _ I love you _ and  _ because I love you it’s not fair that we let each other hurt anymore _ . 

Of course, that didn’t stop the hurting, it just morphed into a new kind. But it’s with this revelation that he realizes that their separation was not between Lucas and Eliott, but between love and hurt. 

It’s funny, in a twisted way. That love and hurt can exist simultaneously and therefore blame themselves on each other. But Lucas was blind to it before, now able to tell the difference. 

And he loves Eliott more, making this distinction. Eliott took the love he had for Lucas and separated it from the pain he was feeling - one of the most selfless and beautiful things anyone has ever done for him.

Lucas wants to do the same for Eliott. He wants to be the person that can and would love him enough to shield him from pain, especially caused by Lucas himself. He wants to be the person Eliott deserves, which is the best person Lucas can be.

Which is why Lucas has to leave. He has to leave because he thinks they’re better than this, thinks maybe they’re too good for each other tonight - and together they’d give in; well, they already did.

Lucas has to leave because he loves him, just like Eliott had the night they broke up.

He decides that love is the choices made to protect the ones you love, even in the effort of loving them. And the choices may be the wrong ones and the decisions may be bad ones, but they’re all out of love. And if the consequences of that love and those choices hurt, then it’s just that. Consequence. It’s not the love that does the hurting. Maybe, the opposite, in fact. It does the healing; and for the first time in six months Lucas thinks his heart has started to heal.

It doesn’t change the fact that this fucking hurts, leaving Eliott again. Lucas feels so guilty for being the emotional mess he is and causing Eliott any more pain than he already has, even if out of immense unconditional love. 

Even with this breakthrough Lucas still finds himself having doubts, because he has no fucking clue what to do. He’s trying to be a better person in doing this, because it’s what he deserves, and what Eliott deserves. But he still can’t help but feel like Eliott has always been a better person than Lucas thinks he could ever be, and suddenly feels undeserving of the curious, caring eyes on him.

For a second he thinks what kind of person he was in a past life to ever deserve Eliott and the love he gave him, continues to give him. And what kind of hell the next Lucas is in for for ever jeopardizing that.

Lucas swallows hard, shoving all of this down with it. He doesn’t want to make another memory that would press on his bruised heart.

“I really have to go. Thank you for inviting me,” is the last thing Lucas says before leaving once again. 

  
  


*

Lucas goes home after that, or, well. He leaves his home and Eliott and goes to Yann’s apartment where he is staying at the moment. 

It’s late, and it’s a school night, and he knows that Yann has an important presentation early in the morning. Lucas tries to make tea to calm himself down; he’s too wired and frantic from his evening with Eliott to go to sleep no matter how late it is. He’s so clumsy with his movements that the tea kettle clashes on the stovetop, and Lucas winces from the harsh sound. 

Soon Yann is padding into the kitchen with a furrowed brow. Lucas hates that he’s woken him. 

“Lucas? What are you doing?”

“Sorry, I was trying to make tea and—“ 

He tries his hardest not to start crying, but then he feels Eliott’s hands on him and the sad look in his eyes and Lucas can’t hold back the tears any longer. 

He cries, forgetting the tea altogether, then Yann is wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. 

“I don’t know what to do, Yann,” Lucas cries into his shoulder. 

Yann steps back to look at him, and Lucas takes a breath to look back. 

“How did it go tonight?” His best friend asks openly, like he doesn’t want to force the memory but he needs to know how best to help. 

“I went to see his art and, fuck, it was amazing. The way he sees things, sees me...I love him so much, and it hurt to see him. But then…”

“What?” Yann sounds worried now. 

“God, I’m so fucking stupid, I shouldn’t have gone.” Lucas shakes his head. “We went back to the apartment and— we kind of…”

“Oh, Lucas…”

“But then I couldn’t continue, I just couldn’t. I— I wanted to...but I just couldn't.” He swallows. 

Lucas finally learned to cut the excess instead of pulling at it until it left him bleeding. He chose to separate his love from what hurts, to let that glimmer of hope burn a little brighter.

He hopes that counts for something.

“So basically I just panicked and left and now I’m here and I don’t fucking know what to do.”

Yann gives him that same sad smile he’s been wearing for months. Lucas can’t decide if he never wants to see it again or if it’s the only thing keeping him together at the moment.

Yann brings him in for a tight hug and says firmly: “You deserve to be happy, Lucas. You don’t have to bear this weight alone.” 

Yann pulls back to look him in the eye. “Just talk to him.” Lucas huffs but lets him finish. “I know you love him, and I know he loves you. So just, let him.”

Maybe Arthur was right. Maybe it really is that simple.

He knows his friends are trying to help, and he should really take some of their advice, but it doesn’t stop Lucas from overthinking. What if it’s not that simple? Can they just forget about everything that happened before? As much as he wants to, he doesn’t think he can. Not after everything they’ve been through.

*

The next Monday Lucas sits in class with Imane, and he’s too scatterbrained to focus on the lecture but can feel her eyes on him.

She doesn’t say anything, though, and he’s grateful. She’s the only person who doesn’t pry, but Lucas also knows she sees him hurting and would be there to talk if he ever let himself open up.

Several long hours later they leave the lecture hall, but Imane has to meet Sofiane so she leaves him with a gentle smile. Lucas is about to turn the other way when he sees a familiar face recognize him. 

“Lucas,” the voice calls out, and he has no choice but to turn around.

Eliott walks quickly over to him and catches up. “Can we talk? About…” 

Lucas stops abruptly and turns to him. “Talk about what? It didn’t mean anything, right?” He bites. That wound is still fresh.

He tries to ignore the stunned look on Eliott’s face but his stomach is in knots when he realizes how harsh he just was, leaving Eliott like a wounded animal. 

“Wait, please—“ 

Lucas keeps walking, letting the tears fall. 

*

Healing isn’t linear, and Lucas feels like he’s in a constant state of back and forth that erases all the progress he thinks he’s made. 

He’d thrown himself into his schoolwork after the breakup, needing something to put his pent up energy into. It worked, for a while, until he saw Eliott at the pizza place - out of sight, out of mind, right? But ever since that day Lucas can’t sleep, can’t focus, can’t get his mind off anything but Eliott and now the uncomfortable tension from that night at the apartment. 

It’s no use going to classes for the day, he overslept anyway. Lucas texts Imane to take notes for him and she replies with a thumbs up, no sarcastic comment giving him a hard time. Perks of being dumped, he supposes. 

Lucas doesn’t want to stay in bed and wallow in his feelings, he’s done that enough. He wants to clear his head and try to get back to the person he wants to be, the kind that deserves to be happy like Yann said. 

He decides to go for a walk and get a warm cup of coffee at his favorite café to start the day. He sees hydrangeas at a market on the street and snaps a photo to send to his mother, along with  _ thinking of you _ .

The brisk winter air settles into his bones, but it’s a feeling he welcomes because it’s better than being numb, although if he stays outside much longer he’ll be numb from it anyway. 

His feet take him uptown where the gallery Eliott’s art is displayed, and he sees a sign telling him the local exhibit is closing tomorrow. 

Lucas decides to go, to see it one more time. He’s hesitant about seeing the pieces and pressing on his tender heart, but in the end he thinks he'd rather remember a time when he and Eliott were together right now. 

The warm air inside hits him when he enters, and he closes his eyes to the feeling. 

The gallery is empty save for the two employees at the back of the room, one of which greets him with a smile. He returns it, and it feels good to smile again, even if at a stranger. 

He starts in one corner of the room and looks at every piece hanging there from all the artists on display. There’s oil paintings in vibrant colors, abstract silkscreen prints, even sculptures larger than him. 

The photo of their hands is probably Lucas’ favorite. He misses that the most, holding Eliott’s hand wherever they go or just because he can. Well, could. It’s been months but he still finds it hard to remember everything in the past tense versus the present one. 

Lucas doesn’t know how long he spends in there, just staring at the beautiful art and taking advantage of the relief from the cold winter. 

It’s overcast and cloudy but the sun manages to peek through and make his eyes adjust to the brightness. It’s the kind of weather that just looks like winter; it can be deceiving with how the clouds seem to protect from the harsh rays and make one think they’ll be safe from them, only to end up with a terrible sunburn from staying out too long. 

Lucas goes back to Yann’s and decides to cook dinner for them, and it’s worth it for the genuine smile on his best friend’s face. 

He goes to bed and dreams about Eliott again, in a place where they have farm animals because they make Eliott happy which makes Lucas happy. When he wakes he doesn’t feel it weighing on his heart, but he feels lighter, that hope inside winning in the end. 

*

The next week is one of the best weeks he’s had in months. Lucas takes every opportunity to hang out with the guys and FaceTimes Basile and Daphné occasionally, calls his mom, and gets decent grades as all the hard work he’s been putting in seems to pay off. 

After his classes on Thursday he decides to go back to the warehouse Eliott took him to in the spring, the sky reminding him of what it looked like that day. Like it was heavy and close and about to fall. 

When he arrives it starts to snow, the first snow of the season. It’s freezing but Lucas doesn’t mind, taking shelter in one of the warehouses with graffiti and vines all over. 

It’s odd to be there again, and without Eliott. But it’s almost like he can feel him there with the words written on the walls and the life springing up from the ground and crawling the surfaces. 

He notices a raccoon spray painted in the corner and Lucas smiles at the thought of Eliott putting it there. Next to it is a few words in red spray paint and his heart stops. 

_ Je t’aine _ it reads - misspelled and all. 

Lucas had texted Eliott when he was drunk one night and every time he tried to type  _ I love you _ it came up as the incorrect version, so it’s been a little inside joke between them for years. Eliott hadn’t let him live it down, but Lucas smiled like an idiot when Eliott signed off his texts with the typo. 

Lucas finds himself staring at the wall, at Eliott’s declaration, and he just should have said no. To going to the showcase, to taking his hand as he lead him to the fucking apartment, to  _ this doesn’t have to mean anything, right? _ He should have said no. 

But in some twisted way, he’s glad he didn’t. 

Lucas reaches for his phone in his pocket and snaps a photo of it, not nearly as elegant as the ones hanging in the museum, and it’s not quite light out anymore but it still does the trick. His thumb hovers over the send button in his messages with Eliott, the last message there is just the address to the gallery above it and a happy birthday wish from July. He takes a deep breath, thinking about what he could possibly say. 

After a minute he decides his words don’t carry the weight he wants them to, and maybe it is simple after all. He just sends:  _ Je t’aine, Eliott  _ and walks through the snowy city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one chap left!!!!!!
> 
> please tell me what u think, i would love to hear it :)
> 
> find me on tumblr [@luxandobscurus](https://luxandobscurus.tumblr.com/) hehe


	4. maybe if you just relearn my name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the part we've all been waiting for!! and almost 18k words omg
> 
> i have spent months working on this fic and i'm happy and sad to see it end - thank you all so much for the support and encouragement and love! i really appreciate it more than you know 💗 enjoy this final chapter :')
> 
> chapter title from 'what about love' by banks

**_in the dead of winter_ **

The snow doesn’t relent. Lucas isn’t wearing the proper attire for a long walk through the Paris streets as the snowflakes continue their descent, falling on the tip of his nose and melting into his skin. He finds himself following a path wherever his feet decide to take him, one foot in front of the other through the slush on the pavement. His extremities are losing feeling but he still feels his heart hammering in his chest where that small glimmer of hope is glowing, burning brighter with every step.

He stops at a busy traffic light, all his forward momentum screeching to a halt as he takes in the sight around him. How the cars and buses still drive on the wet roads, whizzing through the night just as the snow flurries above. How the world seems to keep turning and people lead their lives no matter the temperature or condition.

Lucas thinks of the spring day he walked these streets feeling like it was against him, the world pushing his insecurities in his face and the sun shining warm and bright when his world was anything but. And how he let it get him down, let it slow his world to a halt until he eventually got back up again. And he stands there, now, in the midst of it all where his feet have brought him - where he didn’t let anything stop him from moving.

Up until now, Lucas feels like he’d been making the smallest steps towards healing, albeit with some major setbacks that seemed to cancel out his progress. But recently he’s made a few huge steps forward - with the memories that used to sting but he found solace in, with reaching out to Yann and his friends when he needed them, with waking up from his dreams and feeling light rather than letting them weigh heavy on him. With telling Eliott he loved him tonight. Even if it was misspelled and via text, it was said, and in a language only they know.

The light turns green and he crosses the street, the one that will take him home. The one that leads to Eliott. He walks on, he walks and walks until he’s almost running - needing to get there as fast as he can, where that warmth is.

He heaves a sigh when he finds shelter in the lobby of the building, the stark contrast of the dark walls and heated air against the chill from the door and the city painted white with snow.

He’s hit with a sudden wave of doubt. No matter the growth and changing he finds himself experiencing, somehow doubt always riddles him. It’s the doubt that he may not be welcomed here again, that he would only be hurting instead of helping. That Eliott could - and has absolutely every right to - slam the door in his face and not want to see him, not want to hear what he has to say. Lucas knows better than anyone what it’s like to be unwelcome, and he wouldn’t want to impose that feeling on Eliott.

Lucas deflates with the thought of that happening. He scrubs a cold hand over his face, and feels the damp clothing sticking to his colder skin. He paces, trying to think of what else could happen, that Eliott would welcome him in and they could...he doesn’t know. The doubt grows in his chest until he feels like he can’t breathe, until he lets it out with a long exhale.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, his numb fingers swiping it open to read the message. It’s from Eliott.

_Lucas_   
_Je t’aine_

He reads and rereads the message until the screen goes black, only then finding the wherewithal to consciously move his feet as he ascends the stairs to their door. Their door? The door.

He knocks. He waits. In reality it’s only a minute but to Lucas it feels like time has suspended, and he wants to reach into his pocket where he still has the key to open the stupid fucking lock. His fingers twitch with the urge to do just that when the door is opening.

Eliott stands there, Lucas’ head whipping up to see him as soon as he appears behind the door. His eyes go wide, mouth parting in surprise when he finds Lucas to be the visitor. Lucas’ breaths come out quick and short, and he’d like to blame it on his trek across the city and up the stairs but he knows it’s the sight of Eliott that steals the breath in his lungs. Eliott looks to have stopped breathing momentarily, too, and Lucas wants to give him all the air he’s held for so long, even though he doesn’t even think he has enough for himself. Still, he would give it to him.

“Hi,” Lucas breathes, not knowing what else to say.

It’s unnerving, how different the air is between them now versus the texts in his phone sent only minutes before. Like they exist in two worlds and seem to not know how to navigate between the two.

“I— um... hi,” Eliott stammers. He looks more relaxed than his voice implies, now that he’s had a second to take in Lucas before him.

His shoulders are still up near his ears, his black hoodie hanging on his frame and his socked feet crossed at the ankle. And it’s so...Eliott. Everything about the sight in front of him is just as Lucas remembered, even when he seems to make up this separate version of him in his head, in his memories, in his dreams.

Eliott opens the door wider and steps aside indicating he wants Lucas to come in. There’s an unspoken _what are you doing here?_ in the space between them as Eliott follows him inside, but Lucas is glad he doesn’t ask, for he’s not sure how to tell him, _I felt like coming home._

The question is basically written all over Eliott’s features, and it may be wishful thinking, but Lucas has the sense that it’s more out of surprise and curiosity than anything else - rather than disgust or anger.

But he’ll admit, it’s hard to read him. The Eliott he thought he knew wore his heart on his sleeve and had these tells that Lucas could decipher from miles away. Lucas still sees some of his nervous habits but he can’t see anything else. Maybe in their time away and their distance now have acted as a shield of defense from Lucas’ detectors, forcing him into a spiral of assumptions that can only make things worse. It’s the very thing that got them into this mess in the first place: Lucas’ assumptions. His made up versions of Eliott he had convinced himself were the cause of the rift between them, when in reality it was Lucas being defensive to the real Eliott, fearing he’d act as the versions of him Lucas had created. And after everything, Lucas doesn’t want to do that anymore - he wants to take the Eliott in front of him as he is. Like he should have all along.

Eliott looks at him, expectant, leaning against the counter with his hands clutching the marble. Lucas tries not to think of other events where he found him in a similar position.

Lucas should say something, he’s the one who showed up out of nowhere, after all. Maybe not so out of nowhere, because Eliott texted him back. He said he loved him too.

“Is this a good time?” Lucas asks, suddenly feeling like Eliott only invited him in just to be polite, like Eliott always is. The question is redundant now that Lucas is inside, and he’s nervous Eliott will tell him he’s busy but he’s making an exception.

Eliott nods, his face going slack. Not quite like he’s let his guard down, just that he’s not going out of his way to keep it up. He’ll take it.

Lucas averts his gaze for a minute, inevitably falling on the open door to the bedroom. The last place they were together - before Lucas panicked and left. And when Eliott wanted to talk about it, he walked away.

“I’m sorry,” Lucas says, not knowing where he’s going with this. Eliott looks at him, and Lucas looks back. He doesn’t feel like he can do anything else - not with those eyes on him.

“What are—” Eliott starts, then shakes his head to start over. “Lucas, I’m the one who should be sorry.”

Lucas was... not expecting that. It shows on his face, and Eliott stands up straight to continue.

“I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you, bringing you back here, that night...I swear I never meant to—” He sighs. “I don’t want you to think that’s all I wanted. I was going to tell you that Monday I went to see you but...” _But you pushed me away._

The conversation is going in a very different direction he thought it was, and Lucas has no choice but to ask: “Then what did you want? I thought it didn’t mean anything?” Lucas’ voice isn’t as venomous as it was that Monday, but the question still burns the back of his throat.

“Lucas…” Eliott hears the hurt in his tone, and it’s even more evident in his own. “Fuck, I don’t know why I said that. I just couldn’t believe you actually showed up to the gallery and it felt like you were...I don’t know. Like you were willing to take me back that night.”

Lucas can’t fucking breathe anymore, like the apartment is just a vacuum that takes and takes and doesn’t give back. He might not have known it then, but Lucas thinks he was. Willing to take him back.

Then, he remembers: _This— this doesn’t have to mean anything..._

“But you...did you want it to? Mean something?”

Eliott looks pained - like it’s a double edged sword answering that question. But with his confession before this it seems what he said that night was the opposite of what he meant.

“I— I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking straight that night. I almost didn’t even go to my own art show because I was so fucking nervous.”

He pauses, and Lucas feels his heart drop to his stomach hearing what Eliott went through that day, and how he had no idea.

“Then everything was going so well, and you were there, and we were having a good time and then you were—” He doesn’t say it, but Lucas thinks he knows what he means. _Then you were on your knees._ “And then it got too real, I didn’t have time to think and I didn’t know what it meant, and I didn’t want to assume that it meant something when it didn’t or— I didn't want that to be the reason we got back together, if we did.”

Lucas doesn’t want to hold it against him, because he was just as confused and excited that night that everything seemed to blur in the moment.

Eliott continues, “And when you agreed, that it didn’t have to mean anything...I just went along with it. Then at least we were on the same page, I guess.” He runs a hand through his hair. “But it was so fucking stupid and I shouldn’t have said anything. And I’m so sorry for making you feel like it was nothing, because it— it wasn’t. I don’t know what it was or what it means and we probably shouldn’t have—”

“That’s why I left,” Lucas starts.

Eliott looks up from the ground when he says this, his brows knitting together and in need of more context.

“I couldn’t do it if it didn’t mean anything. Not because I didn’t want to…” He shifts his weight on his feet where he’s standing, “but because I was afraid that it would mean more than it should’ve. I should have said no, at the door. I shouldn’t have done a lot of things that night.”

Lucas has avoided his eyes; after the room is silent for a while he looks up to see Eliott’s face change. It’s gone from somber and sad to just extremely...hurt. Lucas’ heart cracks a little at the sight.

“What do you mean?” Eliott croaks out, voice weak and so fucking hurt.

It’s then that Lucas realizes what Eliott must have interpreted from what he said. He steps closer with a hand stretched out to warn him that’s not what he meant, but retracts it as soon as it comes into his vision.

“No, Eliott, not that.” There are those eyes again. “I wanted to be there, and I’m glad I went. And I’m so happy for you. I wish the night ended as good as it started, and I’m sorry...for all of it.” Once the words come rushing out it’s hard to stop them. “For— for dismissing you when you wanted to talk, for panicking before I left last time, for being so weird at the pizza place, for...for being the worst boyfriend. I’m sorry for getting us into this fucking mess.”

It’s so frustrating to think about all the mistakes he’s made, all the pain he caused himself and Eliott. But it feels good to claim them as his own mistakes, to take responsibility for them. It was a long time coming.

“But you didn’t,” Eliott says. “Put us in this mess. I did. Well— I mean, we both did, but. I’m the one who...” His voice breaks, and he doesn’t finish the sentence.

Lucas gets an extremely petty and oddly satisfying feeling at Eliott doing the same. Owning his mistakes.

“You broke my fucking heart, Eliott,” he whispers, clutching a handful of Eliott’s hoodie.

Eliott’s voice is thick with regret, breaking again as he says: “I know. I know, and it’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. I fucking hate myself for it, and if I could take it back, fuck, I swear I would in an instant.”

Lucas doesn’t know how to take that, and Eliott looks like he doesn’t know either. Eliott runs a hand through his hair and closes his eyes like he’s scrambling for something else to say, and then drops his arms at his side with a heavy sigh.

“You know what I thought, that night?” Lucas huffs a humorless laugh, beside himself. He lets go of Eliott’s hoodie. “I thought, _finally_. Finally, we’re talking, I’m talking. Even when we started to fight, I was so relieved we were fighting instead of saying fucking nothing.” It starts to sting again, thinking about that night. “I wish we had talked more. I mean, yeah, throughout our relationship, but specifically that day. I wish we fought more, too, I think. Like, fought for us to stay together.” He chances a look at Eliott before quickly avoiding his gaze again. “But that day everything just— just came out all at once and I didn’t mean it, I was just so fucking scared of losing you that that’s exactly what I did. I know I’m responsible for that, and I know that I held back from telling you those things before but— I just wish we could have had the chance to talk about it, instead of…” Instead of, well. They both know. “And when you said you couldn’t do this anymore, it...it felt like you were giving up on me. On us.” Lucas says, as if they’re the same thing.

Eliott shakes his head like he’s upset with himself, at being reminded of what he did. “I know it sounds stupid when I say this out loud but I did what I did because I wanted to save it. I thought we could just take a second to figure out what was going on and eventually talk it all out because... I hate fighting with you, I always fought with Lucille and nothing good ever came out of it.” He pauses, like he regrets bringing her into this. “And then you said…”

Lucas’ throat feels like it’s going to close. He wishes he never said it, what Eliott is referring to. The pregnant pause is uncomfortable until Eliott breaks it again.

“But you’re right, I wish we could have fought for us, and I’m so sorry that I gave up on you.”

Eliott is sorry that he gave up on him - not on them. Because maybe...he didn’t. Lucas’ breath gets caught in his closing throat.

“There’s this...this movie I watched right after. And this line that makes me think of you,” Eliott starts to say.

Lucas melts.

_He thought of me._

“The line was: _Whichever universe where we are together, that’s the one my heart lives in._ And that’s the only thing that got me through, all this time. Knowing that there’s a universe where we’re together.” His voice gets quiet, like he’s talking to himself. “Where there’s an Eliott who didn’t fuck up the one good thing he had.”

Lucas is still trying to catch his breath. It hits him like a freight train, the intensity of what he just heard. The severity of it and the stern tone in Eliott’s voice starts to settle in and makes his stomach flutter. Because here he is, admitting that he found comfort in his silly little game of alternate universes.

Every jab and nudge from Eliott whenever he’d say something about other universes comes flooding back, their first morning together spent kissing and debating the topic. How Lucas tried to convince him there were infinite ones where they were lying together just like this. He never thought he’d live in one where they had broken up.

“I…” Lucas chokes out, his throat constricting with how much he feels. He looks into Eliott’s eyes, the ones that he hates that he loves - for they just make him want to give Eliott every part of him. They make his heart beat faster, make his body thrum with a new electricity he has gone so long without. Lucas steadies his breath and finally finds the courage to speak again, those beautiful eyes gentle but steady. “I thought the same thing. Well, I guess I just held onto the dreams I would have a little too tight. Dreams where we were together, where we were happy. Just like you had.”

_I thought of you, too._

Eliott takes a step closer, and Lucas wants to meet him in the middle, but his body is frozen in place. He’s terrified to let him in because he doesn’t want to hurt again. But he also can’t stand feeling far away like he was, like he has been for months.

Lucas appreciates that he’s closer now, he can whisper what he says next without fearing Eliott won’t hear him. He looks at his hands for comfort - the ones that once held Eliott’s - no cuticle to pick at now.

“I don’t want to have those dreams anymore, I don’t want to think about other universes. I want it to be real.” He gets a strange surge of courage after finally muttering these words, and looks into those eyes again. His voice is stronger now. “Because fuck that. I don’t care about them, not anymore. They used to bring me comfort for not trying things, thinking maybe another me would instead. But now I want to do them, here. It doesn’t matter what is happening in these parallel versions of us, what futures our brains dream up when we’re sleeping. The only thing that matters is right here, in this universe. Where I want to be with you.”

Eliott is speechless, but his eyes tell him that he wants that, too.

“Lucas…” He looks overwhelmed - shocked, even. “I want to be with you, too. If it means anything, anything at all, I’m so sorry. And it probably doesn’t, but— I love you.”

It looks like Eliott doesn’t know what to do with his hands, like he wants to touch him and hold him and show him what he means, but he hesitates. And Lucas just wishes he’d do it; he would welcome the touch more than any other time. He needs to know he means it, through the way his hands feel on his skin, around his jaw with the most delicate but firm touch he didn’t realize he’s been missing.

And fuck, there’s those three words again. _I love you._ But they aren’t followed with _but I can't do this_ this time. They aren’t followed with anything - just there, on their own, in the most plain and simple of meanings.

And Lucas wants to scream, _of course it means something, it means everything._ Because he’s been dying to hear them again, those words, from Eliott. In his voice. Because they’re enough - because love should always be enough. It's the only thing that doesn't hurt.

Lucas just wants to say, _here, take it. Take all the love I have, for you, for everything. I don’t need it; actually, I need you to have it, because that’s where it belongs. And if you can’t do this or don’t want to give us another shot, have it anyway. And if you can’t give me yours, that’s okay. What I have is enough for the both of us. Just please, take it, it’s yours. Always has been, always will be. No matter what._

What he ends up saying, is just: “I love you, Eliott.”

They look at each other, the weight of their words setting in. Lucas knows he’s putting on his pleading eyes that get Eliott every time, his hands curled into the fabric of his hoodie. Then arms are being wrapped around Lucas’ shaking body, and he clings to their embrace like a lifeline.

Eliott is there; he’s real, warm and solid and hugging him like he’s missed him just as much as Lucas has.

“Lucas, you’re freezing.” Then Eliott’s arms are gone, and Lucas looks up to him shrugging off his hoodie. Lucas hadn’t even noticed how cold he was until the warmth of Eliott’s body was no longer near. “Here. I’ll make some hot cocoa.”

 _Take mine, too_ , it feels like Eliott says with the gesture.

Lucas takes the sweatshirt and goes to say something to him, but he’s already turned to walk into the kitchen to make their drinks. Lucas stands there for a minute, not knowing what to do. Then he decides he should shed his cold and damp layers in favor of the warmth of Eliott’s hoodie and pulls it on.

He’s taken back to the night he tried to find comfort in the same fabric and it’s a different type of memory that presses on his healing heart - instead of a good memory pressing an open wound, it’s a bad one setting into the healed layers. And then he thinks of Eliott offering Lucas’ zip up at the door, and how he had wracked his brain looking for an ulterior motive behind it, as if Eliott was telling him he’d have to brave the winter alone. But here he is, wrapped up in the cotton that thaws the ice in his bones and his heart that’s halfway healed, and he doesn’t have to go through it alone. They can do it together.

But Lucas suddenly fears that he could be reading the situation wrong, because he’s not used to talking to Eliott like this, not for a long time. And he doesn’t want to assume things about him anymore, not when all he has to do is ask.

“Eliott, what are we… What are we doing? What is this?”

He turns to Lucas then, two mugs in hand. Eliott brings his shoulders close to his ears with a bewildered look on his features. “I don’t—I don’t know, what do you want it to be?” He offers Lucas one of the mugs, almost as an olive branch.

And, well. That’s the question. What does he even want this to be? Why did he come here?

Lucas accepts the mug, the heat instantly surging through his fingertips. He takes a deep breath and looks at Eliott. “Honestly? I don’t know either.” They both sip their cocoa even though it’s much too hot still. It’s always _too this_ or _too that._ “I wanted to apologize. And I guess I’m just confused, what it all means and how we’re supposed to go from here.”

Eliott sets his mug down on the counter and walks toward Lucas again. Lucas keeps his cold hands wrapped around the mug, keeping the warmth close to his chest.

“Did you...did you think we could get back together?” Eliott’s voice is that strange combination of open but reserved, like he found the courage to ask the question but after he did he wonders if he shouldn’t have. It’s not accusatory or snarky in a way that suggests they never would - get back together, that is. And it’s not quite hopeful enough to convince Lucas that’s why he asked, but there’s a hint of it there, underneath, like maybe that’s part of the reason.

Lucas is stunned nonetheless. He’s come clean about a lot already, but he wasn’t ready for such a question. The truth is, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what brought him here tonight, but maybe, just like Eliott, it’s part of the reason.

“I...do you?”

Eliott goes quiet, like he wasn’t ready for the question either. He looks away as if he’ll find the answer somewhere, then looks back at Lucas, where he’s silently begging _please say yes._

They’re doing it again, dancing around what they need to just say out loud. And their shared gaze says they’re scared to, that something is still holding them back, just in case what they want isn't reciprocated.

Lucas tries to find the courage to say something, say he wants to. He replays their conversation looking for hints, and they’re all laid out for him to see. _I wanted to save it. If I could take it back, I swear I would in an instant. I want to be with you, too. I love you._

“Yes,” Lucas breathes before he chickens out.

“Yes?” Eliott asks, and it’s...hopeful. Like he wants it, too.

“Yes, I want to get back together. I want to be with you, in this universe where this Lucas is with this Eliott because it’s the best thing he’s ever had.” The words just slip out, before he could even try to stop them. Lucas breathes the biggest sigh of relief, because even if Eliott were to say they wouldn’t get back together, he can take it knowing he left everything out there.

Eliott is still quiet, and Lucas kind of can’t stand it anymore, so he steps closer. He places his mug on the counter and a hand on Eliott’s chest. “Do you?”

Lucas wonders if he shouldn’t have, but Eliott takes the hand in his and intertwines their fingers. And it’s—it’s exactly what he needs.

“Yes,” is all Eliott says into the small space between them. It’s confident and sure, unlike his next words. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

“Of course I would,” Lucas says. Then, softer, matching Eliott’s tone: “I wasn’t sure you would. I’d hoped, but…”

And hope is a dangerous thing to have. But when it comes to Eliott - it’s all he’s ever had.

Eliott hugs him close again and whispers _of course I would_ too.

Lucas is starting to feel warm all over, be it from the warmth in Eliott’s smiles and the gold in his eyes, or the feeling of home he gets from being back in the apartment and in his hoodie again.

The rainy day and long night before it flashes quickly in Lucas’ mind and he lets it sink in - how lost and alone he felt even in his home, his home in many forms but all of them in Eliott.

“We can’t let what happened before happen again, I don’t think I can bear it.” Lucas is getting choked up again, somehow the absence of Eliott in his life recently always catching up with him.

“It won’t,” Eliott reassures, coming close. “It won’t.” He squeezes the hand he’s holding. Lucas missed that so much.

“I meant it when I said I’d rather fight with you than not have you at all,” he says quietly, but Eliott hears him just fine. “I want to fight with you instead of just leaving, I want us to fight because we care so much and want to save this. Maybe that doesn’t make any sense or that it’s fucked up, but I just don’t want us to drift apart like that again.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Eliott agrees. “It has to be different. It can’t be the way it was, not like it was at the end.”

“I know. I don’t want to be the insecure jealous boyfriend who hid how I was feeling,” Lucas shakes his head at how foolish he had been for thinking that would ever work before. “I want to be the partner you deserve who asks and listens when you answer, and trusts you when you don’t want to tell me something because it’s your right to keep some things to yourself.”

Lucas looks up at Eliott who nods lightly and bites his cheek.

They’re really going to do this.

“I don’t want to hide things from you either. I guess I didn’t tell you about my uni friends because I didn’t want...I didn’t want you to feel like you had to be friends with them just because of me, maybe because that’s sometimes how I feel around— I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t want you to feel like that, because I know what it’s like to feel disconnected to them.”

Lucas considers this, his heart sinking at Eliott feeling disconnected to his friends.

“But I should have told you where I was, I didn’t think of how that could make you feel like I was hiding them from you or...I’m just, I’m sorry,” Eliott sighs. “I know I don’t tell you everything all the time, but I want to— I want to tell you anything you want to know.”

Lucas laughs lightly, “I just want us to communicate, that’s all. You don’t have to tell me everything, just like, normal everyday stuff so I know what my boyfriend is up to. Because I love you and I want to know, not because I feel obligated to, okay? I trust you.”

He does. He trusts Eliott, because he’s choosing to take him as he is.  
Lucas is more secure in himself than he thinks he’s ever been, and he thinks he’s ready to open himself up again, to let Eliott in. He trusts the person standing in front of him now, because they love each other - and that’s all he needs.

Lucas thinks Eliott smiles at the word _boyfriend_ , and it makes his face blush.

“Okay. Same goes for you. I want to know everything you want to tell me. And I trust you,” Eliott says. He smiles wider, color flushing his face. It’s breathtaking. “Boyfriend.”

Lucas shoves him weakly and they share bashful smiles. They break apart to just let themselves look at the person they thought they knew and want to know again. It’s another one of those moments - the kind that makes everything around them disappear and they’re just caught in their own universe. The one both of their hearts live in.

They stay silent for a while, just sharing space. They drink their cocoa and make eyes at each other over the rim of their mugs, shy and uncertain but full of love.

In the silence doubt starts to creep back in, but Lucas doesn’t let the negative thoughts simmer any longer than he can help it. He meant it when he said he doesn’t want to be so insecure that he gets in the way of what’s good. And this is starting to feel like it might be good again - like it could be good again; he doesn’t want to ruin it before he even has the chance to let it. Be good. They’re in that figure eight again, and they’ve finally met in the middle. If they want to give this another shot, they have to change their course and make sure it’s the same one this time. He wants Eliott to be open and honest with him, and that’s exactly what he wants to be for Eliott, too.

“Eli, I’m...I’m scared,” he admits. Eliott just presses their foreheads together and takes a deep breath, causing Lucas to do the same. “I’m scared that...that I’ll just push you away again and I’ll ruin everything. I’m always scared that nothing good ever lasts. I’m trying so fucking hard not to be, but I can’t—I just can’t lose you, not again.”

The tears are coming back now, everything he’s been bottling up finally rising to the surface. But this time he wants to say it all, wants to let it out. He wants to share it with Eliott, and just take the support he’s willing to give and let Eliott love him like he knows he does.

Eliott brings his hands up to gently hold Lucas’ face between them, and Lucas’ breaths come out shaky at the tenderness of the touch. Eliott wipes his tears and keeps rubbing his thumb back and forth over the skin even when the tears are gone. Lucas leans into his hold, eyes fluttering shut at the soft brush of Eliott’s thumb on his cheek.

“I know,” Eliott says, his voice thick with emotion like he already knew before Lucas even said so. Then the touch is gone, and Lucas looks up at him, eyes shining. “I’m scared too, that I’ll fuck up and drive you away. That you’ll look at me and all you’ll see is that I broke your heart and think that’s all I’ll do. And the worst part is that I can’t promise you that I won’t do it again, because I...I did it without even meaning to, and— I wish I could, but I just can’t promise that.”

Lucas remembers the one promise he made to himself: to never let Eliott feel alone. And how he broke it, without ever meaning to. Almost like in his efforts of preventing the loneliness he only alienated Eliott even more. Just like Eliott trying not to break Lucas’ heart, that ended up being the thing he did in the end. They got caught up in the self-fulfilling prophecy, when everything they didn’t want manifested at the thought and fear of it happening.

It just goes to show that love doesn’t do the hurting, but it’s fear that does. All they wanted was to protect each other from what they feared in a way of showing their love - but it’s the fear that caught up to them, it’s the fear that drove them to do and say these things in order to save the love.

And that’s what love is, he thinks. It’s in the trying, in the wanting to do better for and with your partner.

For a moment he remembers the words in blue. _I don’t want to be afraid anymore._

Lucas hears Eliott take a shaky breath, like he’s trying to be the strong one and resisting the break.

“Hey, that’s not all I see,” he brings his hands up around Eliott’s neck, waiting for him to look up. When he does, Lucas continues: “I see someone who taught me what it meant to be loved even when I thought I never would be, and I see the strongest and kindest and most loving person I’ve ever known.”

Eliott’s eyes soften at the words, like it’s exactly what he needed to hear. Lucas wipes away the tear that escapes.

But it’s true - when he looks at Eliott he sees those eyes that make his heart go wild, and there’s pain in them now but also so much love there like always. There’s pain and hurt and sorrow but there’s an overwhelming amount of love, of this gentle and soft kind but there’s so much of it it’s intense and steady. That’s what Lucas sees when he looks at him: love. Because love is Eliott, he thinks. Love is a noun and a verb and also a person who shares his heart, looking at him with those eyes that tell him everything he needs to know.

Now Lucas wipes the other boy’s tears, the love and pain dripping from his eyes, telling him how he knows how hard he tries to keep everything together but Lucas sees through the veil he hides behind. He sees the broken pieces he may have caused to crumble inside Eliott; he wants to hold them all together even if they cut his hands.

Eliott’s words are firm even though his voice shakes. “I can’t promise that I won’t hurt you again, but I promise to love you endlessly, because I do.” He lets that be the last word until he quickly adds: “If— if you ever forgive me.”

Lucas doesn’t ignore the pain he felt from their breakup, but he takes it knowing that Eliott is not the only one at fault for it. He’s as much the culprit here, and Lucas now knows to separate his pain from Eliott’s love. He knows that with love may come pain, but he still chooses love, he still chooses Eliott - for they are one and the same.

“I don’t blame you, Eliott. It was still the hardest time of my life and it hurt, a lot, but I don’t blame you, okay?” Lucas tilts Eliott’s head to meet their eyes again. “I think I blame myself, more than anything. And I’m sorry, for everything I said that night...I didn’t mean it, I don’t think you’d ever do what I accused you of. I promise, I don’t. If you’ll forgive me.”

Eliott looks like he’s lost his voice to emotion, and he gives him a flat smile that Lucas takes with one of his own. Lucas leans in to connect their foreheads, and tries to give Eliott all the love he has in the touch.

“We hurt ourselves more than each other, I think. And maybe the only way to deal with that was to push each other away,” Lucas says and pulls back to meet their eyes again. “So I don’t blame you for what you did, I need you to know that.”

And he does that thing that makes Lucas’ heart melt at his feet - Eliott keeps his eyes on him even when Lucas knows he’s dying to look away, to look down and lick his wounds and shy away from the attention. But he keeps looking at Lucas, and lets Lucas look at him, and it’s been an eternity since he’s let him do that, that it just leaves Lucas a puddle of emotions under him. Eliott is letting Lucas love him, and letting the love overcome the pain.

“You’re…” Eliott starts. Lucas tilts his head the slightest bit in interest and it makes him continue. “You’re incredible, Lucas. You didn’t deserve any of this.”

Lucas is stunned, mostly at the tone in Eliott’s voice that suggests that Eliott did. Deserve this. This pain and heartache and unforgiving dread. “You didn’t either.” Lucas takes both of his hands and places a kiss on the backs of them before holding them like it’s all he wants to do. He thinks it is.

Eliott leans forward to place his face in the space between Lucas’ neck and shoulder, bringing their bodies close. Their hands part in favor of wrapping their arms around each other in the warmest embrace, and Lucas doesn’t even mourn the loss because he has Eliott all around him, his face buried into Eliott’s chest.

They breathe each other in, the scent of home filling his nostrils and it’s more intense than ever because he hasn’t been home in so long, too long.

“I’m never letting you go.”

Lucas just hugs him tighter at that, and he can’t be bothered to pull away enough to say it clearly, but he says, _I’m not either_ and it’s muffled by the body he’s clinging to, but with the way Eliott hugs him tighter, he knows Eliott hears it anyway.

They pull away but stay close, closer than they were before. Eliott places a hand on Lucas’ chest.

“I want to be with you. I only want you.”

_I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my whole life._

There is no doubt now. His heart has given in to the glowing hope inside it, so much so that it’s all there is. Bright and intense and unwavering. There’s no doubt there; it doesn’t stand a chance.

Lucas smiles, his eyes closed against the words as they utterly consume him. “Say it again,” Lucas whispers, tucking his head down. He needs to know that it’s not just a figment of his imagination, that Eliott Demaury is standing right in front of him saying _he wants him._ And only him.

“I want you, I only want you,” he hears again, crystal clear this time. _I want you._ “I love you, Lucas. I never stopped.”

Lucas is sure he’s dreaming now, even if he feels the most grounded he’s ever been, with Eliott holding his face between his hands again, like he always used to.

“I love you,” Eliott whispers now, safe and quiet in the small space between them, foreheads resting together. There’s a break in his voice, which causes Lucas to look up, and he sees that Eliott has been crying, too.

Lucas smears a thumb under Eliott’s eye and tilts his chin to meet his eyes. “I love you,” he says back, voice as steady as it can be as his love is pushed through his throat, where it's been living since the second he saw Eliott at the entrance of the museum. “I only want you,” he returns.

They laugh at the same time, a bit humorlessly, at the ridiculous dance they’ve done around each other for over half a year. The overly complicated situations they’ve put themselves in all those weeks and months for no good reason - because it’s simple, really. Lucas loves Eliott, and Eliott loves Lucas. That’s all that matters.

“Can I kiss you?” Eliott asks softly, halfway to a kiss already.

Lucas lets him, meeting his lips in the space he doesn’t reach on his way there, in a kiss that sends electricity down to his toes and steals the breath out of his lungs, but Lucas finally feels like he can breathe for the first time in months. They pull back because they’re crying and smiling and just a complete mess of emotion that kissing properly is basically impossible.

“Again,” Lucas says, although he doesn’t even know he does. But that’s all he can think: _again, again, again._

“Do what again?” Eliott giggles, and the sound almost makes Lucas break down all over - hearing that laugh.

“Again,” he repeats, not knowing the answer either.

Eliott kisses him once more, tells him he loves him another time. So does Lucas.

They spend the night reacquainting themselves and basking in each other’s presence, for they have months to catch up on.

Lucas doesn’t know if he wants it to feel the same or different. But Eliott’s love is better than Lucas ever remembers, after seeing him at his worst and deciding to love him anyway. He’s seen the worst of Lucas’ mistakes, and loves him despite them. Maybe because Eliott made the same ones.

Lucas doesn’t know if he wants it to feel the same or different, or if it’s either one. Because it’s new but familiar, and Lucas thinks he’s okay with that. One thing he knows for sure: his love for Eliott is steady and strong like always. And he knows that his love is returned tenfold.

They can’t keep their hands off of each other, but not in a sexual way, just like they need to feel that the other is real and alive in their arms. They talk about everything and nothing, and it feels so good, so normal - like home.

The tender kisses and touches eventually turn passionate and wanting, and it’s Lucas who chases Eliott’s lips with desire he hasn’t let himself feel in so long. Then they’re in bed and their clothes are off and Lucas heaves a heavy sigh when Eliott says: “Wait—“

“What?” Lucas whines. Haven’t they done enough of that? Waiting?

Eliott rests his hand on the side of Lucas’ neck and softly runs the pad of his thumb over the heated skin under his jaw. Lucas thinks he’ll never get used to how his hands feel on his skin.

“Nothing, nothing, just— are you sure?” Eliott’s eyes are the most expressive Lucas has ever seen them, every human emotion flashing in them at once. His hand doesn’t leave Lucas’ neck, only coming down to rest on his collarbone where Lucas is sure he can feel his pulse under his fingers. “I want this to mean something. But I only want it if you do.”

Lucas’ heart explodes in his chest, and he leans forward to touch their foreheads together. And it’s not fair, honestly, how perfect this boy is - how gentle and caring he is with Lucas.

“Yes, I’m sure,” he says, then pulls back to look into Eliott’s eyes. “I want this, I want this to mean something.”

And it’s so relieving to say, to just simply state what they want and let the truth out like it should be. They’re finally breaking out of the figure eight and into the same orbit, their love at the center keeping them grounded.

The hand on his collarbone moves down to his chest where his heart is overflowing, spilling out into the hand pressed to it like it’s where the love belongs. Eliott looks at him, and sees him. Like he feels all of Lucas’ pain and love in his hands and says, _it’s safe here. With me._

Lucas finds it hard to breathe all of a sudden, feeling so much all at once. He’s been without Eliott and his love and his hands on his skin and his voice in his ears for months - well, excluding their almost, kind of hookup two weeks before - and Lucas needs a second to process all of it. He knows it’s against every rule in the magazines and every breakup song ever written, to let your ex back in again. But Lucas feels...good. With him. Better than ever he has without him, and better than he remembers when they were together before.

They lay there for a while, silently, just taking up each others’ space. Lucas familiarizes himself with the boy in front of him, the one he wants and wants him. Then they kiss slowly and sweetly, every word they need not say present in it.

Lucas mimics the gesture and places a hand on Eliott’s heart, its rhythm beating in time with his own. _Yours is safe with me, too._

“I want you.” It’s said with a tenderness Lucas hasn’t felt in his own voice before, with so much truth and vulnerability. He means it in the general sense, even though they’re naked and pent up to touch.

“I love you,” Eliott whispers into another kiss.

“I love you, too,” Lucas says onto his skin like he wants it to live there. “Eliott,” he breathes, just because, and the other boy stills then pulls away. Lucas’ brows furrow. “What is it?”

Eliott shakes his head as a reluctant smile forms on his lips, his tongue darting out to lick them. “That’s the first time you’ve said my name like you used to.”

That makes Lucas bite his lip as a grin splits his face in two, because he’s right. He knows the movement of his lips as he says it and loves the sound it makes on his tongue; the name is home as much as the boy who claims it.

He leaves a lingering kiss to Eliott’s cheek, the one not smushed into the pillow adorably. A lively laugh accompanies the smile it brings to his face, breath warm over Lucas’ ear where he lingers close. And Lucas just has to hear that laugh again, feel the smile against his skin again, so he leaves kisses all over and anywhere he can.

“Lucas!” Eliott giggles, squirming happily under the attention. And it’s said like he used to - like he never stopped saying it. Like home.

Lucas pulls away from him and lays back on the bed, hands and eyes never leaving Eliott. He can see the joy and light radiating off of him, his heart no doubt burning with hope just like his own.

Lucas’ mouth is open like he wants to say something but he’s never been good with words in moments like this - in moments where love just consumes him and there’s no room for anything else. He soon finds them and says them in the safe space between their lips. “I love it when you laugh.”

Now that Lucas has let everything out after keeping to himself all this time he can’t seem to keep anything just for himself anymore - and he thinks he likes it that way. He wants to just live and share his life with Eliott, both the big and small things like this. Because he loves it when Eliott laughs and wants him to know he does.

“I love you all the time,” Eliott counters.

Lucas doesn’t realize his eyes are closed until he feels Eliott’s lips on his eyelids leaving tiny kisses over them. There’s a warm hand softly running up and down his spine and tracing patterns on the skin. He feels so loved and cared for he thinks he might die from it. What a way to go.

Instead of returning the heart he once held, a new one is formed between them to share. One that can’t be broken or ripped away because it’s as much Eliott’s as it is his own. A new source of love that flows into each of them like a circuit, feeding off of the other and in constant renewal.

They make love with no rush at all, taking their time to relearn the landscape of skin they feel at home in. Every kiss and touch and thrust is punctuated with those three words. _I love you._

Time collapses and the universe condenses down to just their bedroom, and Lucas feels everything from past, present, and future all wrapped up into one. He sees them falling in love all over again, or maybe for the first time, in a mix of past and future he welcomes like air in his lungs. It feels like a beginning but also just a small part of the middle, because he knows they have forever to go. He sees Eliott at the altar and animals roaming a farm and children at the kitchen table. But most of all he sees himself, happy and content with the life he’s made and the one he continues to make with Eliott.

They make more hot cocoa and sit in bed with their knees touching and talk and laugh and kiss and cry. Lucas steals Eliott’s hoodie again and pulls up the hood over his bed head before snuggling up to his boyfriend; Lucas’ eyelids get heavy and eventually they’re back to laying in each others’ arms.

Lucas feels so comfortable and warm despite the snow falling outside. It's later than they realize but they want to stay awake and love each other a little more. But then Eliott has one hand in his hair under the hood and the other in the pocket of his sweatshirt with Lucas settled into his side, and he doesn’t last long until a peaceful sleep claims him, and Eliott, too.

*

They wake up slow, to the winter sun straight above and a white blanket covering the city in both clouds and snow, trapping them in between.

Lucas stirs and somehow the hood has stayed on his head through the night, hair falling into his eyes that Eliott brushes away. He blinks his eyes open to see Eliott lying there next to him, and for a minute his heart stops because it’s not a dream. Lucas is home.

“Good morning,” he hears. Once he wakes up more and takes in the sight of the gorgeous boy in front of him and the steadiness of his voice, he thinks that Eliott has been up for a while.

“You’re still beautiful when you sleep,” Eliott tells him, with the same conviction but ease as Lucas complimented him last night. And it’s almost too much to look into his eyes and hear those words at the same time - Lucas thinks he’ll just burst.

He knows Eliott is talking about the drawing he left on Lucas’ pillow their first morning together, but he wants to see that smile again.

“You’re beautiful all the time.”

It works perfectly - a rosy blush forms on Eliott’s cheeks as they bunch up in the sweetest smile he’s ever seen, his eyes going crinkly and looking like love. Then Eliott is burying his nose into the fabric of his hoodie and hugging him close, and Lucas laughs when his hair tickles his nose in their movements. They lay like that for at least half an hour, dozing in and out of sleep.

“Thank you,” Eliott mumbles with his head still on Lucas’ chest. Lucas shifts to look at him but the other boy doesn’t want to move, so he relaxes and waits for him to continue, running a soothing hand up and down the arm around his middle. “I don’t deserve it, but thank you for giving me another chance. I love you, thank you for letting me.”

Lucas feels him melt into the touch, like he’s finally allowing the comfort Lucas provides to settle in. It makes him want to cry, with how gentle and loving Eliott is with Lucas but not with himself. It’s then that Lucas realizes once again how much time they spent apart, hurting and healing and letting themselves love again. And as much as Lucas feels he’s grown and become confident in himself, he wasn’t there to witness the same for Eliott. He knows Eliott had done some growing and changing - they wouldn’t have talked and they wouldn’t be together now if he hadn’t - but he doesn’t know if Eliott has forgiven himself for everything yet. Lucas wants to tell him he doesn’t hold any of it against him, and he has, but in the end that’s not what he needs right now; what Eliott needs is to forgive himself, and Lucas is going to be there to love him and support him until he does.

Eliott’s breaths get uneven and Lucas knows he’s starting to cry, which also makes tears form in his eyes. He holds him tight like it will make all the doubt fall away, pressing a kiss into his hair.

“I love you. Thank you for letting me, too.”

As confident as Lucas is in his love, their love, there’s a sliver of doubt that comes crawling back - despite his best efforts to fend it off or will it away - because with love may come pain, he now knows.

It’s a bit like riding a bike, like how they say once you get back on it will all come back to you. Except this time the bike is too high off the ground, the brakes are cut, and it’s a downhill slope right into traffic. It might not work. But he can try - he can hold on for dear life and hope that the tires take him to his destination no matter the injury caused along the way. And if it means Eliott is right there with him, then there’s nothing he wouldn’t do.

They’re going to try. And he thinks that’s enough.

Eliott rolls over on his back and yawns as he rubs the sleep and tears out of his eyes. Lucas finds himself smiling like an idiot at how adorable he is and how much he’s missed waking up to him. How much he missed him.

“I would kiss you right now but we should probably brush our teeth first.”

Eliott makes a face like it’s the most disappointing news he’s ever heard, not getting a kiss. Lucas’ already giddy smile grows. “I don’t care,” he pleads. “Just one?”

And, well. Lucas simply can’t say no to that. They smile into the kiss and Eliott holds his face close even when they stop, pressing another on the side of his mouth. The first (and second) of hopefully many more morning kisses he hopes to share, that Lucas can’t wait to repeat the next morning and every one after that.

Lucas goes to muss up Eliott’s hair. “We should probably shower, too.” His hand stays there and he hums, taking in the sight of him. “Your hair is longer.”

Eliott makes a noise and they laugh softly then laugh some more because they’re laughing, and Lucas’ cheeks are starting to hurt from how happy he is.

Lucas uses a spare toothbrush and knocks their hips together where they share the sink, earning toothpaste filled giggles out of the both of them. He leaves the toothbrush in the cup next to Eliott’s like it was for years, and the sight makes his chest grow with a bittersweet feeling at another small thing returning to how it was.

They shower together and Lucas lets Eliott wash his hair, back turned to him and warm water rushing down his front. As his boyfriend massages the shampoo into his hair Lucas hums to himself and lets out a small laugh, making Eliott hook his chin on Lucas’ shoulder wondering what it was for.

“I was just thinking about how you spray painted _je t’aime_ on a wall in Paris but it’s spelled wrong so it looks like a tourist must have written it. I don’t know, it just made me laugh.”

Eliott still has his chin on his shoulder and laughs into his ear, and Lucas turns to plant a wet kiss on his cheek because it’s there.

“It’s not for anyone else,” he says simply.

Lucas lets it sink in for a minute as he rinses his hair, then turns to look at him. They switch places so that Eliott is under the warm spray and Lucas is about to grab the shampoo bottle to return the favor when he realizes something. “When...when did you do it?”

Eliott turns shy suddenly, and it’s not something he does often, so Lucas’ heart starts to beat faster. He watches as Eliott pinches the water off of his nose in an attempt to stall. Lucas reaches out to hold both of Eliott’s hands in his own in order to tell him that it’s okay, and that Lucas meant what he said earlier - he doesn’t have to tell him unless he wants to.

Eliott holds Lucas’ hands; he closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath. “That night.” He looks up at Lucas then, and his eyes just continue to leave Lucas breathless with how much they communicate.

“That night?” There’s a lot of nights that could be considered _that_ night.

And it might be the water dripping from his eyelashes, but Lucas knows they’re tears. He squeezes Eliott’s hands, and Lucas isn’t even sure what he wants to say through the gesture, but he thinks Eliott will know somehow.

“I went there right after you left and didn’t come back. After I said we needed space or time or whatever I said that ruined everything. God, I almost called you and begged you to come back, because I didn’t want you to go, and I didn’t want to hurt you, but I...I didn’t know what to do, and I’d already caused enough damage and I didn’t want you to turn me down, so I just wrote that. Not for anyone to see, not even for you to see, but it was for you, for us. Because I knew I fucked up but I knew I loved you, I do love you.”

Lucas sees blue. _I don’t want you to go._

“Eliott—” _That_ night? The night Lucas drowned himself in tears and alcohol because he thought Eliott didn’t want to be with him anymore?

“I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I picked up the phone to call but felt like you’d just hate me, for breaking us up and pushing you away. I know I keep saying it but I really am so sorry, Lucas. I swear I never wanted to keep us broken up, I don’t know what I wanted or what we needed but it was never—”

“Hey, I could never hate you. Trust me— I tried, I wanted to.” He swallows, then shakes his head. “But I just couldn’t. I love you too much,” Lucas says it with a lighter tone than the words imply, and he goes to brush the wet hair off of Eliott’s forehead and leaves a kiss there.

“I didn’t think we would be apart this long, I thought we could have just taken some time to breathe, you know? And then sort out all the shit we needed to. But then time kept passing and with every day it was harder and harder to reach out and… God, we could have done this so much sooner.”

“If I knew… I mean I guess you said we needed time but over time it felt like it was, I don’t know...permanent.”

He can’t say that he would wish for them not to have taken that space, that time that they needed. Lucas had done a lot of reflecting in that time, and as cliche as it sounds, he found himself again - without Eliott. They spent their formative years together, and Lucas hadn’t really had the chance to just be himself, on his own.

It was still the hardest thing he’d ever experienced, though. Heartbreak. But if it meant he could have Eliott, could be with Eliott, and love Eliott and let Eliott love him - then there’s no question, Lucas would do it a million times over. They say that love is about making the hard choices, making the ultimate sacrifice. Lucas doesn’t know what to think about that, but he knows that there was no choice. It was Eliott or nothing - no matter the rest. Because he’d rather have Eliott and a broken heart than no Eliott at all.

Lucas tries not to add salt to the wound, instead relishing the fact that they’ve decided to move past this, and that they are committing to be together again. To be better. His heart is no longer broken, only doubled in size. Just, not without some growing pains.

He holds Eliott’s chin to get his attention. “But, hey, we’re here now. Together. That’s all that matters, right?”

Eliott leans into the touch and Lucas hugs him close, and it’s cold now that neither of them are under the water but they are clinging to the body in front of them as if it could warm them instead. It does, but more so on the inside where their new heart is burning between them.

He feels Eliott’s body decompress as he exhales. “Right.” They hold each other like they never want to let go.

Lucas’ stomach grumbles over the sound of the showerhead and they both laugh and pull away. “Now turn around so I can wash your hair and then I’ll make us some lunch. Living with Yann definitely made me a master chef,” he smirks.

Eliott grins and kisses his mouth then turns around, leaning his head back so that Lucas can reach. They don’t say anything for a while and laugh again when Eliott’s stomach grumbles too.

While massaging his favorite shampoo into Eliott’s hair, Lucas plants a kiss on the scattered freckles of his back and whispers I love you because he can’t hold back from it, he has months of I love yous to catch up on and kisses to plant on the boy he loves.

*

Lucas rummages through the cabinets for ingredients and decides to make a simple carbonara. It’s one of the easiest but most delicious dishes he’s come to learn with the help of Yann (and Basile on FaceTime).

“Oh my God,” Eliott hums into the first bite. “This is so good.”

Lucas grins and sits up straighter at the praise; he wipes the sauce off Eliott’s mouth as he chews. He takes a bite, trying it as well. “It is, huh.”

“I think I missed your cooking the most,” Eliott smirks before digging back in.

“Hey!” Lucas quips and throws a dish towel at him. Eliott laughs and reaches for his glass of water. “How did you even survive without me making you meals everyday?”

“Pizza. Lots of pizza,” Eliott shrugs. Lucas won’t lie, the memory stings - but only for a moment. He picks up his fork again. “And dinners at Stef and Pauline’s.”

“Are they your uni friends?”

“Yeah, they’re super cool. You’d like them.” Eliott offers a soft smile, and Lucas finds himself returning it at the mention that he would like Eliott’s friends. “We should invite them over or go to dinner or something, if you want.”

Lucas puts his hand on Eliott’s where it rests on the table. “I’d love to.”

*

The weekend is over before they know it, spent talking and cuddling and watching Eliott’s favorite movies - including the one he said reminded him of Lucas.

_“What? That’s how it ends? But—ugh!” Lucas wanted to know if the two characters got together in the end._

_“Yeah, isn’t it such a cool ending? It’s kind of like it’s up to the viewer,” Eliott went on to say._

_“As the viewer I want to know what happened after it cuts to black,” Lucas argued. Eliott kissed his flushed cheek._

They don’t leave the apartment except for a run to the grocery store where Lucas picks out all the essentials Eliott had gone without, holding hands and throwing junk food in the cart along the way.

It’s a cozy and relaxing weekend and exactly what Lucas needs as final exams are just around the corner. He wants to stay inside their bubble and forget about his responsibilities, of course, but it’s his last year of uni and he wants to finish strong. And Eliott has some projects to finish too, so he wouldn’t get to hang out with him as much as he’d like to anyway.

Lucas decides to go back to Yann’s where his entire material life is; he’s already borrowed clothes from Eliott and needs to spend at least a solid afternoon studying before one of his many exams in the coming week.

“I don’t wanna go,” Lucas mumbles into Eliott’s chest where they stand at the door.

Eliott kisses his hair. “I don’t want you to go either, baby. You’ll...you’ll come back?”

Lucas keeps his arms wrapped around his waist and looks up at him, finding himself unable to hold his smile back. “Only if I can pick the next movie.”

Eliott laughs into the crook of his neck and agrees to his condition. Lucas goes to turn around and open the door when he’s called back.

“Lu, you’ll need this.” Eliott takes his hand and opens his palm, then places something there.

When Lucas goes to look at it, he sees a key. “I still have my old one,” he laughs. His heart goes crazy in his chest when Eliott looks incredibly endeared by that.

“Well, you need this one because the old one won’t work. I finally changed the lock.”

Lucas closes his hand around the key, his invitation to come back home. To the golden sunset moving across the wood floor, to the frost on the small windows, to the snacks he’s just stocked in the kitchen, to more toothpaste filled laughs as they fight over the sink.

He reaches up and kisses Eliott, and Eliott kisses him back. Lucas puts the key safely in his pocket. He can’t wait to use it.

*

Lucas comes back to his friend’s place with a not so warm welcome, and he can’t say it’s undeserved. He got so caught up in being with Eliott he may have forgotten to let Yann know he wasn’t going to be around for the weekend.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Yann stares at him, and Lucas doesn’t think he’s ever seen him this angry or worried.

“I was…” Lucas swallows. “I was with Eliott.”

“Oh.” Yann’s entire face changes with this information. “So...did you let him?” _Let him love you._ Lucas nods, a small, relieved smile gracing his features - and Yann’s, too. Yann pulls him in for a bone-crushing hug. “I’m so happy for you, Lucas. But don’t you ever fucking diappear like that again,” he laughs into Lucas’ shoulder.

Lucas laughs along - he loves his best friend so much. “Promise.”

*

Finals week is in full swing, Lucas and Imane finding as much time as they can to review together. And in an unexpected first, Lucas fully explains a concept Imane had been struggling to grasp. He’s so focused on pointing at the diagram in front of them that he almost doesn’t catch her smug grin. He stops in the middle of his explanation to ask, “What?”

Imane shakes her head fondly, a knowing smile curling on her lips. “Who knew it would take eight years for Lucas Lallemant to help me with Biology for once.”

Lucas snorts and looks back down at the textbook and they both laugh.

Imane returns the favor about ten times throughout the rest of their study session, and Lucas zones out when she asks for his answer on the last question in their review.

“Hm?”

“Lost you for a second. Where’d you go?” She shoves his shoulder lightly.

He hides his phone under the cover of the open textbook. “Nowhere,” Lucas shrugs.

Imane takes one look at the side of the textbook his phone is under. It buzzes and he can’t hold back the instinct to reach out and look at it. Eliott’s name is on the screen and Imane notices. “Ah, I should have known.”

Lucas plays dumb although it’s no use. “Known what?”

“It’s like high school all over again.”

Lucas scoffs and his cheeks go pink. “It is not,” he tries. “High school me couldn’t say I helped _you_ with Biology.”

Imane raises an eyebrow at him before turning the page in front of her. “Some things never change,” she mutters.

Lucas sneaks one last look at her smiling face and goes back to the review, smiling, too.

The next day is his last exam - Biology. It’s one of the hardest tests he’s ever taken but also the one he was most prepared for, so he thinks he does all right. Imane snickers in the row in front of Lucas as he goes to turn in his test with 45 minutes left of the exam period; he just winks in her direction before opening the door to the winter air and freedom at the end of the semester.

Eliott’s university is about a ten minute walk from there, and it just so happens Lucas will make it there at the perfect time if he stops at the bakery on the way. Confections and warm coffees in hand, he leans against the cold wall of the building where Eliott has his last critique of the semester, and it’s only a few minutes before the door is bursting open with the person he wanted to see.

And just when Lucas thought his heart couldn’t handle any more, it leaps out of his chest when he watches Eliott run over to him and literally squeal when he finally wraps his arms around him. Lucas leaves a kiss on his cheek with a loud smack and they both smile so hard they can’t kiss, but they hug each other tight and whisper I missed yous. It’s an awkward hug because of the drinks in Lucas’ hands, but as soon as Eliott sees them he gasps excitedly and takes the sugary drink from his boyfriend.

“Oh, while you’re here…” Eliott starts to say, an excited look on his rosy features. “Why don’t I take you to the studio and I can show you the other photos from the shoot that didn’t make it to the gallery.”

Lucas feels his chest rise and is being pulled inside by Eliott’s hand when he nods. “I was so worried you’d find me out with these pictures,” Lucas admits when Eliott presents a folder in front of him.

“What do you mean?”

Lucas takes out the prints and looks them over, at the blacks and whites filling the images. “I was so nervous that day, that you could tell something was up. I don’t know,” he breathes, not daring to look at Eliott.

Eliott considers this and carefully crafts his next words. “I could. But I wasn’t sure what it was. And I didn’t know if it was just you being camera shy,” he nudges Lucas’ shoulder.

Lucas smiles sadly but huffs a quiet laugh. Then he sees a particular photo that catches his eye - it’s when Lucas was behind the camera and Eliott was teasing him for not knowing how to adjust the focus, and it captured Eliott a little out of frame and out of focus. He looks - he looks so in love with the person behind the lens. “This one is my favorite.”

Eliott looks at him like he does in the photo, then kisses him slow.

They sip their coffee and walk off campus and through a nearby park, flipping off annoying birds and taking a seat to eat croissants and eclairs from the bakery.

They talk about their week, telling each other all the things they want to know or want to share - or just keep talking because they have an ear to listen and keep listening because they want to hear the other’s voice.

It gets dark before long, what with the shorter winter days; before heading to Emma’s to celebrate the end of the semester they stop at Lucas’ favorite record shop. Eliott gets excited to see one of his favorite EDM artists or whatever has a new release, and Lucas teases him about how that could be pressed onto the same vinyl that held some of the greats like The Clash and The Rolling Stones.

“I still can’t believe the love of my life is into dubstep,” Lucas laughs as he thumbs through the Alternative section.

Eliott is busy looking through the film scores and soundtracks on the other side of the table when he suddenly stops. “The love of your life?” His voice is both amused and utterly affected - and Lucas only now realizes the weight his joking statement holds, but he means it all the same.

Lucas looks up at him through his eyelashes, no doubt above a deep pink blush forming on his cheeks. He matches Eliott’s tone, keeping a cheeky smile through the words he says with his whole heart. “Yeah, love of my life, man of my dreams...what was I supposed to do, _not_ fall for you when you showed me that song all those years ago?”

And the way Eliott looks at him then - it’s...like everything in his life had been leading him to this very moment, to meeting the eyes that he hates that he loves. Except he doesn’t, not really - hate that he loves them. He loves them, regardless of everything else.

They share another one of those moments, the kind they seem to be sharing a lot lately. The kind that makes Lucas’ heart beat so loud that it drowns out absolutely everything around them and it’s just the two of them in their own universe - where his heart lives with Eliott’s.

Then there’s familiar hands around his waist and a familiar smile being pressed to the skin between his neck and shoulder - with that voice and that scent that reminds him of home. “You’re the love of mine.”

Lucas feels like he’ll just spill out onto the floor with how much love he feels in that moment, in the arms of the boy he loves and loves him back just the same.

Then the sound of the cash register and the bell on the door sneak into their universe, along with the sound of one of Lucas’ favorite songs over the speakers in the store.

_You can’t always get what you want_   
_You can’t always get what you want_   
_You can’t always get what you want_   
_But if you try sometimes, well, you just might find_   
_You get what you need_

*

Lucas is nervous. He hasn’t met anyone new in a while; he’s lucky enough to still have great relationships with his friends from high school and has gotten close with some classmates in college he’s had classes with for years, but other than that he hasn’t really branched out of his circle much.

They’re on their way to meet Eliott’s friends; and he’s not nervous because they’re new people, he doesn’t think. He’s just nervous because he really wants to like them, and even more so he really wants them to like him.

But the warm smiles and hugs he’s greeted with at the bar and the beer in his hand and a familiar arm on his shoulder squash the nervousness to just a buzz that makes him excited to find out more about the people who love Eliott, just like he does.

“So how did you guys meet?” Lucas asks Stef and Pauline, who hold hands under the table and share a giant glass of Sangria with two neon colored straws.

“She was teaching a beginners pottery class and, well.” Stef smiles gingerly over to her girlfriend. “The rest is history, as they say.”

“You were kind of terrible,” Pauline laughs and goes for a sip of the fruity drink.

“Not all of us are blessed with artistic talent.”

Lucas nods in agreement. “Tell me about it. It’s not fair, is what it is.” He takes a look over to where Eliott and Theo are getting another round at the bar and grins when he catches Eliott’s eyes for a moment.

“To lacking creative abilities!” Stef proposes a toast with her water glass and Lucas clinks it in cheers, her bright green eyes sparkling when he laughs with her.

“I just make weird things out of clay, not much talent is required.” Pauline shifts her glasses on her face and tucks her red locks behind her ear.

Stef frowns, “And your weird clay things made it into a museum!”

Lucas considers as he sips his beer and asks, “Wait, at the gallery with Eliott?” They both nod. “Those were so cool! I even went back to look at them before they took down the exhibit.”

The girls light up, and Lucas was already smiling the entire time, but seeing their reactions make him smile wider.

Pauline talks more about her sculptures at Lucas’ request and Stef asks what Lucas is studying and his favorite Pokémon when Eliott comes back with Theo, who he remembers being blonde but now his hair is more silver.

They get into a rather heated discussion about Pokémon but Lucas focuses on Eliott when he slides back into the booth next to him.

He puts his hand on Lucas’ thigh like it belongs there. “Having fun?” Eliott asks before kissing his temple.

“Yeah.” Lucas takes the hand on his thigh and interlocks their fingers before returning them to where it was resting. “They’re really cool. Thanks for introducing me.”

Eliott knocks his head into his shoulder and Lucas feels so...content. He feels at home in his body and in Eliott’s hold and having fun with new friends.

At the end of the night Stef is drunk and Pauline and Theo take either side as they walk home, Eliott and Lucas lagging some and taking their time even though it’s freezing - they feel all warm inside from the crowded bar and laughing for hours.

Before they left Pauline invited them over to their place for New Year’s Eve; Eliott frowned and started to say they had other plans, but Lucas cut in.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun,” he told her, leaning away from Eliott to look in his eyes, which were squinting in question but then in excitement. “We’ll be there.”

Eliott whisper-yelled in his ear over the song playing in the bar, “What about the party at Arthur’s?”

“We’ve spent the last four years at his parties, I think we can miss one.” Lucas nudged. Eliott gaped at him, and Lucas suddenly got nervous for agreeing on their behalf.

Eliott sensed this and rubbed his shoulder soothingly. “No, no, it’s great! It’s just that I’m so glad you met them and want to hang out more, it’ll be nice.”

Lucas ran his fingers up and down the arm around his shoulder. “Of course, I trust that you like the right people.” He smirks, “You like me, after all.”

Eliott’s laugh was so bright and warm it didn’t even feel like winter anymore. “I do.”

*

“Lu!” Eliott shouts when he comes back into the apartment.

Lucas smiles when he hears his boyfriend enter, catching his own smile in the mirror where he’s adding the finishing touches to his hair for their date night. Eliott had brought home a new bottle of his - their - favorite shampoo and gingerly apologized for using so much of it while he had the place to himself, earning a sad and regretful smile from Eliott as Lucas assured that it was okay.

“Hm?”

Eliott finds him in the bathroom and walks in with papers and envelopes in his hands. “We got something from Canada,” he smiles with a brow raised. From Basile and Daphné.

They open it to see a postcard from Montréal, and an insert of a few pictures of their two friends and their cats wearing elf costumes, of course. Then there’s another postcard behind it, and when Eliott takes it out he has an amused but confused look on his features - it shouldn’t be as cute as Lucas finds it.

“Oh my God,” Lucas laughs hysterically, and Eliott’s face only splits into a wider grin as he’s trying to understand what’s so funny.

The postcard is a picture of two very real lobsters with Lucas and Eliott’s faces very poorly photoshopped onto their heads. Basile’s contribution to the envelope, he’s sure. Lucas looks back up to his boyfriend’s adorable bewildered face and goes to explain.

“After I saw you, that day at the pizza place, I needed some advice on what to do and…” Lucas swallows, the memory coming back. “And he said we would find our way back to each other. Because you’re my lobster.”

“I have no idea how that relates to lobsters, but I’ll take it,” he smiles into a sweet kiss after pulling at a hair on top of Lucas’ head. “I love you.”

“I think it’s another one of his dumb Friends references.” Lucas bats his hand away and laughs into another kiss, then lets Eliott rub their noses together. “I love you more.”

They call Basile on their way to the cinema before their date and thank him for the envelope; Bas laughs and tells Lucas he knew he was right. Lucas regrets to inform him that they will be spending New Year’s Eve with Eliott’s friends but manages to negotiate a double date on New Year’s Day to make up for it.

*

Lucas and Eliott spend a few days at Lucas’ mom’s house over Christmas and there’s nowhere in the world he would rather be. They’re hanging out on the couch under a warm blanket by the fire and waiting for dinner to be ready, for his mom wouldn’t let them lift a finger to help. Eliott is sitting on one side of the couch wearing a dark green hoodie and reading a book; Lucas is sitting on the opposite side leaning with his back against the armrest watching Eliott read. Lucas’ cold feet are tucked under Eliott’s legs to steal some of their warmth under the blanket and Eliott goes to absentmindedly rub his shins over his sweatpants, smiling over at him occasionally.

After a while Lucas thinks he’ll be warmer if he just cuddled up next to him, so that’s what he does, and it’s completely worth it - both for the warmth he finds against his body and for the warmth in his smile that could seriously rival the sun.

“Hi,” he whispers, settling into Eliott’s side.

“Hi,” Eliott laughs and presses a kiss to his hair. “Missed you all the way over there.”

Lucas hums and wraps his hands around one of Eliott’s arms. He looks up, giving his boyfriend one of those please kiss me faces, and smiles when that’s exactly what he does. He doesn’t look away when Eliott busies himself with his book again, but Lucas can’t seem to stop looking at the way his eyes glimmer and shine in the dim living room lit up by a few candles and string lights all around.

“You have pretty eyes,” Lucas says with a finger trailing his boyfriend’s eyebrows. He looks down at the green sweatshirt he’s cuddled up to, “And green is definitely your color, you should wear it more.”

Eliott drops the book to his side and looks right into Lucas’ eyes. “Thank you, baby,” he says before kissing Lucas once more. “Yours are,” he presses another to Lucas’ temple, “pretty too,” and another kiss to the other side of Lucas’ face. Eliott sits back to stare into the eyes he once called deep oceans, and Lucas feels he’s sinking into those in the eyes he’s looking into. No, maybe not sinking, just floating, existing, living.

Lucas’ hand hasn’t moved from Eliott’s face, just softly tracing the lines of it under his finger.

 _“Dinner!”_ Lucas’ mom calls from the kitchen.

The boys join her at the table and Lucas spends most of the meal watching the two people he loves most in his life chat and laugh - almost like he’s watching from the outside, but he feels so present and happy to share this with them.

“Thank you for loving my boy,” his mother says, laying a hand on one of Eliott’s - the one not holding Lucas’. Lucas looks up to his mother, where her eyes are misty and her smile soft, then to Eliott, looking similar.

Eliott squeezes his hand, looking him in the eye. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”

*

“I want you to open your gift now,” Lucas tells his boyfriend as they dry the last dinner plate.

“Now?”

“Yes, so you can use it tonight.”

Eliott raises a brow. “Okay. let’s do it,” he kisses Lucas’ cheek.

Lucas goes under the tree to get his gift - a small rectangular package in red wrapping paper and an envelope. He tells Eliott to open the envelope last, so he goes to tear the wrapping paper from the small package. Lucas feels nervous all of a sudden that it’s silly, that Eliott probably got him such a better gift. He finds himself explaining before he can tell his brain to stop, watching intently as Eliott finds three rolls of film inside.

“I went to the place you always go to get your photos developed, and talked to the guy there for like two hours before I bought these, so I hope that they aren’t, you know, someth—”

“Lucas,” Eliott’s voice is soft and calm. He reaches for Lucas’ hands where they’re folded in his lap to steady him; Lucas finally stops and looks at him. “They’re perfect. Thank you.”

“Oh, great,” he smiles with a sigh of relief. “That one was the same kind you had when I, well, when they got ruined. I’m still sorry about that,” he chances a look at Eliott and is only met with the most accepting and awe-filled grins. “And the middle one was one that Theo suggested, so I thought maybe you’d like it. And the other one is what the guy at the store recommended for your model of camera and said something about it should come out less green? I’m not exactly sure because he showed me like twenty different kinds, but anyway. I hope you like them.”

Eliott kisses the hand he’s holding, and Lucas finds his breath again. “I can’t wait to try all of them. Thank you again,” he goes to kiss Lucas once on the mouth and another on the forehead before reaching into his backpack nearby to load the film. Once the film is ready he raises the camera to Lucas’ face and Lucas shies away from it, caught off guard. “Don’t worry, the first few will be blank.”

Lucas blushes, as he always does when there’s a camera between him and Eliott. “Wait, you have to open this one too,” he hands him the envelope.

“There’s more?” Eliott smiles as he rips it open. Lucas bites his lip this time and watches him read over the paper inside, and this feels even sillier than three rolls of film. He waits until Eliott looks up at him, eyes wide and lips parted in what he thinks is surprise. “Lucas...you gave me a star?”

Lucas nods, and the genuine affection in Eliott’s voice is enough to calm his heart and thinks maybe it’s not so silly after all. He looks down at the certificate, claiming a certain star as their own, with lots of numbers and letters in the name. “I had no idea what to name it but I thought it would be more fun if we did it together, or if you have any ideas.”

And it just seems to keep happening, when Eliott looks at him and Lucas wants to give him anything he wished for - Lucas would pull down all the stars in the sky for him.

“You’re so thoughtful,” Eliott tells him, brushing the hair away from Lucas’ forehead. “Now my gift will be ridiculous after this,” he laughs.

“No way. It’s from you,” Lucas says, as if anything Eliott got him would be ridiculous.

He hands Lucas a plain brown gift box with a red bow, a little bigger than the gift Eliott just opened, and what looks like an envelope as well. Lucas takes the top off of the box to reveal lots of white tissue paper and when he finally gets under it, he finds a mug. He lifts the mug carefully out of the box to look at it closer, and it’s a beautiful soft grey color with tiny specks of black all over. On the lip of the mug it reads _je t’aine_ in familiar handwriting. It’s not exactly round, there’s a few bumps in the side and the handle is a little crooked, but it’s absolutely perfect.

“I made it myself,” Eliott whispers over his shoulder, judging Lucas’ reaction - he smiles and can’t take his eyes off of his boyfriend’s creation. “It’s a lot harder than you’d think, okay. Even with Pauline’s help,” he laughs, that beautiful laugh.

“It’s perfect. I love it,” Lucas says softly, running his fingers over the ridges in the sides where Eliott’s must have been on its way to becoming the very shape he holds.

“Did you see the inside?”

Lucas looks closer and sees a small figure at the bottom of the inside of the mug, and he recognizes it as a raccoon sitting there and looking up at him. It’s also made of the same clay and the same color as the rest of the mug, its masked eyes and striped tail carved out in detailed lines.

“It’s one of those surprise mugs where you can’t see it until there’s less coffee or whatever inside,” Eliott tells him. “And it was a lot easier to make than the mug on the potter’s wheel, that’s for sure.”

“I love it even more now,” Lucas says into a kiss, before placing the mug and the raccoon safely back in the box. Eliott hands over the envelope. “Did you get me a star too?” They laugh, but Eliott says no.

“If you don’t want to go to this specific one we can always exchange it, or change the date or find something else, but, I don’t know, I thought it could be fun,” Eliott rambles just like Lucas did.

Inside the envelope he finds two tickets to a live orchestra in Paris.

“Of course I want to go,” Lucas says, with so much love and tenderness in his voice he thinks he’ll just melt. “I’ve kind of always wanted to go to something like this.”

“Really?” Eliott could not be more excited, and it just makes Lucas even more so. “It will be great,” he kisses Lucas again.

Lucas couldn’t love him more than he does right then.

His mom gives them matching aprons to wear to a wine and painting date at a cool new spot in Paris where they will have a wine tasting while they paint landscapes or fruit or what have you, and Eliott says he can’t wait to see Lucas with a paintbrush while wine drunk. Lucas can’t wait to be with Eliott no matter what they’re doing, and if it means free wine and a painting from his amazing boyfriend, he’s excited.

Lucas gives his mom a collection of books from her favorite author she lost in her move, and she is so excited to read them again. Eliott has to one-up him in gifts to his own mother, of course, by giving her a painting of hydrangeas he made, and she actually gets a hammer and nail from the garage for Eliott to hang it on her wall right away.

They spend the rest of the night drinking hot cocoa and listening to old records, and Eliott motions for Lucas to dance with him in the small space. They sway and laugh at how terrible they both are, then set a slow pattern of steps where they hold each other close as they move around the room.

Lucas’ mom takes Eliott’s place for a while; Eliott gets his camera again and captures the sweet moments where she kisses his cheek and he returns one to hers.

“This was our wedding song,” she says wistfully, showing Lucas where to step.

“Mom…” He would rather not talk about his father in such a happy moment, and he doesn’t want that memory to press on his mother’s bruised heart. They keep dancing - they don’t let it stop them.

“It can be our song for dancing on Christmas instead,” she smiles, and Lucas can’t help but mirror it.

“Okay.”

“Now let me dance with your handsome boy,” she smirks over to Eliott who giggles and takes her hand.

*

Lucas wakes to the sound of melodic laughter coming from downstairs.

He pads into the kitchen to find the source of the sound, and comes to find his mother standing at the counter, morning sun shining bright on her smiling face. She's facing the opposite side of the kitchen that Lucas can’t see from his position behind the entrance, so he leans in to find her source of entertainment - Eliott is tying a bow with the strings of a pink apron around his waist with a smile brighter than the sun.

“So, what’s the secret to the best pancakes in the world?” Eliott asks, and he looks determined to find out the answer.

Lucas’ mom laughs and rubs an affectionate hand on Eliott’s forearm where he has his hands on the counter, ready to cook. “A splash of vanilla, and measuring everything perfectly.”

Eliott watches closely as she measures out the flour and scrapes off the top of the measuring cup with a butterknife, ensuring the exact amount needed is in the cup. Eliott does the same with brown sugar for some muffins they’re making as well, and she praises him for doing a great job, only making his beautiful smile even brighter.

“I’m going to need all these tips written down for when I try to make these at home,” he nudges. “That is, if Lucas will let me in the kitchen.” They both laugh.

Lucas finds himself with a giant grin on his own face and can’t stand being this far away from his adorable boyfriend. He enters the kitchen and his two favorite people light up when they see him before he immediately goes to hug Eliott’s side. “Oh no, what are you two up to?”

Eliott laughs and turns around to hug Lucas, then holds his face in his hands and gives him a kiss. “Just making the best pancakes and muffins you’ll ever have in your life.”

“Is that so?” He looks skeptically at Eliott then to his mom, where she just looks fondly at the two of them and nods.

Eliott removes his hands from Lucas’ face, and when he does he realizes he’s left some flour on his cheek, laughing and going in with a cloth to clean it.

Lucas hears the sound of the shutter closing and looks over to where his mom is standing in the doorway with Eliott’s camera in her hands. “Mom! What are you doing?” he asks but she just keeps taking pictures.

“Capturing how sweet you two are. Don’t mind me,” she says with a wave of her hand telling them to act like she’s not there.

Eliott laughs next to him; Lucas looks to see how he’s allowing this. “Relax, I told her she could.”

Lucas’ heart jumps around in his chest. “You sure? We both know what happened the last time a Lallemant touched your camera.” He knows he’s being dramatic, but it’s worth it for the burst of laughter from the love of his life.

Needless to say, it’s the best Christmas he’s ever had.

*

“Lucas!” The door opens to reveal both Stef and Pauline as they welcome them in and kiss his cheek. “And Eliott!” Pauline adds and goes to show the same attention to him where he stands behind Lucas.

“Hey, thanks for having us,” Lucas says as he offers Stef the bottle of sparkling cider he brought. “It tastes better than the fancy stuff,” he winks.

“Thank you for coming, come in!” Pauline smiles as they walk further inside.

Eliott keeps his hand low on Lucas’ waist as they take in the party beginning around them. They open the cider and cheers to the new year, clinking glasses with a few people around them.

They mingle and dance with some more of Eliott’s friends and Lucas gets a kick out of them making fun of his boyfriend just as much as he does. Eliott doesn’t leave his side the entire night.

“I have something for you,” Pauline presents an object in front of Lucas.

“For me?” He takes the object and upon further inspection he realizes that it’s a small clay figurine of Pikachu. “This is so cool, thanks,” he grins at her, a genuine warm one meeting his own.

“Made it when Eliott was busy at the potter’s wheel making an absolute mess,” she laughs.

“I bet he was,” Lucas laughs at the image of a frustrated Eliott getting wet clay everywhere.

Stef joins them when she spots her girlfriend with Lucas. “He was more a mess than me, and that’s saying something.”

They all laugh and Eliott turns from his conversation to see what they’re giggling about. “Hey! I think I’ve had enough from you two.” He pinches Lucas’ hip when they laugh harder.

The girls are swept away into the kitchen to open more wine and Eliott drags Lucas out to the small balcony. Lucas brings their joined hands to rest on his chest, Eliott hugging close from behind. “Which one is our star?” He whispers into Lucas’ ear.

Lucas looks up at all the options above, and he doesn’t know exactly which one is listed on the certificate but he reaches up with both their hands to point at a bright one to the right. “That one.”

Eliott kisses the skin behind his ear and Lucas can hear his smile, brighter than the star he pointed to. They breathe each other in as the brisk air moves around them, stealing kisses every so often.

“How would you feel about being in my movie?” Eliott asks.

Lucas turns in his hold to look at him. “You mean, like, acting? I don’t think I’ll be very good.”

Eliott shrugs. “Yeah, but all you’ll need to do is act like you’re in love with me.”

“Mm,” Lucas hums into a kiss. “I think I can do that.”

“I don’t know, we will have to see an audition first. Basile’s was pretty convincing.”

Lucas turns around again, Eliott’s hands finding his waist to keep him close. “Ugh, traitor.” The statement can be applied to both his friend and boyfriend.

“Do you want to? I can’t think of anyone else for the role, I wrote it for you after all.”

Lucas’ heart jumps down to the city streets below. “You wrote a movie for me?”

“For you, for us.” Lucas feels an electric current run through his veins every time he says that.

“You’re the biggest romantic. Our life has been a movie since the start,” he laughs.

Eliott turns him with the hands on his hips, then brings them up to hold his face in his hands. “And I’ve loved every part.” He kisses him, and kisses him and kisses him.

“You better give us a good ending, none of that cut to black in the middle of the best part stuff,” he says, taking a handful of Eliott’s sweater.

“Who says it has to end?”

“Happy New Year!” The party inside sneaks back into their universe, everyone cheering and kissing and drinking as they ring in the new year.

Lucas takes his glass from the ledge and hands Eliott his as well. “Happy New Year, my love.”

“Happy New Year,” Eliott clinks their glasses together and they never look away as they take a small sip and return their glasses to the ledge.

They share their first kiss of the year and look up at their star. Only Lucas doesn’t find himself looking into the stars in the sky for guidance or hope anymore, he finds the ones he needs in the eyes of his love right in front of him.

*

“Do you know what day it is?” Eliott asks excitedly.

Lucas stares in confusion like he’s missing a super important piece of information; he’s also just woken up so his brain is slowly turning back on. He reaches over to the nightstand and checks the date on his phone. “Sunday…?”

“Nooooo,” Eliott denies, and it’s so cute Lucas’ lips turn up in a smile.

He looks at his screen again. “January 11th…?”

“Yes!” Eliott sits up and bounces on the bed, making the dumb smile on Lucas’ face grow even wider.

Lucas shakes his head fondly although he’s still confused what significance the day holds - their anniversary isn’t for a month and he can’t think of anything else Eliott would be so excited about. “Are you going to fill me in or what?”

Eliott gives him a blinding smile before kissing his lips. He jumps up from the bed holding out a finger telling Lucas he’ll be right back.

Lucas sits up anticipating his boyfriend’s - he still can’t believe he gets to call him that again - return.

Eliott climbs back in bed with a plate of pancakes — Eliott had texted Lucas’ mom for the recipe from Christmas and was proud to tell her he properly measured everything and managed not to burn them, and passed the taste test before presenting them to Lucas with a _not as good as your mom’s, but_ — with a single candle in the middle of them. There’s a heart drawn in syrup on top and the golden glow from the candle’s flame lights up Eliott’s eyes and catches on the whites of his teeth behind that beautiful smile, Lucas’ favorite in the world.

“Baby,” Lucas laughs, “You know it’s not my birthday, right?”

“I know,” Eliott scoffs, “But it is your _half_ birthday.” He shrugs and tilts his head adorably, presenting the plate to Lucas.

It’s then that Lucas decides that it was never about a language of giving or receiving love. It’s about the one they make together, one only they know. One they were born to speak but only now have found the right words, but ones they’ve known all along, have spoken and whispered and sung them many times before.

It’s in the way Eliott hums into their kisses, the way Lucas always lets him lead the way to a new spot in town, the way Eliott told the waiter at a restaurant Lucas was allergic to cilantro and asked for a new dish, the way Lucas always buys Eliott more sticky notes just when he notices he’s running out. The way Eliott remembers the stupid tiny things like Lucas’ half birthday.

It’s all the things they never had to learn, spoken or unspoken, implicit or on purpose. There’s no box that can hold all these things, these moments - but it’s in everything they do, written on the walls of their apartment, clear as day but hiding in plain sight.

Eliott looks down, his voice turning soft and shaky. “And since I wasn’t there for your birthday, this is my way of making it up to you.” He looks back at Lucas then, this deep regret and vulnerability present in his eyes.

“Eli,” Lucas breathes, unbelieving of how much love Eliott continues to show him. It surprises and overwhelms him every time. “You didn’t have to do this.” Lucas tries not to think about missing Eliott’s birthday, but he’s glad his half birthday fell on a good day, one they spent together.

“I’m sorry, for missing your birthday, and for—“ They both know what he’s trying to say.

“It’s okay, Eliott, I promise.” Lucas rubs a thumb across Eliott’s cheek, and they share a small smile. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Eliott replies. He holds up the pancakes to his boyfriend’s sleepy smile and says: “Now make a wish!”

Lucas laughs and blows out the candle, smiling into a kiss before digging into the delicious pancakes. He wished to spend every one of his birthdays and half birthdays together, and every minute in between.

(They do.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :'''') thank you so much for reading! please tell me all your thoughts, your comments and feedback is always welcome and appreciated! i really hope you enjoyed!
> 
> i have a lot of elu fics in the works, including a royalty au and a friends with benefits au, that i hope u will enjoy as well :)
> 
> in the mean time you can find me on tumblr [@luxandobscurus](https://luxandobscurus.tumblr.com/) feel free to come say hi 💘


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